


Far From New York

by Dragons_Echo (SynchronicityRose)



Category: Sleepy Hollow (1999), The Legend of Sleepy Hollow - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, Gen, Horror, M/M, Mild Gore, Mild Sexual Content, Murder Mystery, Rating: M, Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-04-23 23:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4896427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SynchronicityRose/pseuds/Dragons_Echo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bailey Rhodes did not have a good reputation. Accused of witchcraft on numerous occasion and shunned more so by having become Ichabod Crane's assistant. Yet he'd never imagined he'd find himself journeying Ichabod to the small, even stranger  town of Sleepy Hollow, terrorized by a headless horseman. Where magic and reality intertwine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Hallow's Eve

The year was 1799, all Hallows Eve in the large, bustling city of a Victorian era New York where a young man named Bailey Rhodes resided in. Some of the residents always thought he was on the ‘stranger’ side, they claimed something about him ‘just wasn’t right’. Perhaps it also did not help of the fact he did help constable Ichabod Crane quite a bit, even enjoyed spending his time with the man many people considered ‘mad’.

Some even dared to go as far as to say he was a ‘warlock’/male witch and put a hex on a young lady-which was a very false statement to make thank you very much.

His mother was considered perhaps one of the wealthiest of women in the state. Owning her own design of ‘lingerie’, he was always embarrassed to admit.

Late in the evening hours of New York, Bailey and his family arrived at a mansion. Festively decorated indeed for this time of year. He usually loathed social gatherings, he would rather be with Constable Crane at the current or simply just by himself. But as always, his mother insisted he go.

But he knew the real reason all too well.

“Good evening Mrs. Rhodes! And this must be young Bailey correct?” A man in his forties asked, coming up to kiss the back of Tara Rhode’s hand before offering his to Bailey’s for a shake. “I don’t believe we’ve seen you here before.”

“So lovely to see you and your mistress Mr. Smith,” his mother said with fake kindness in her voice. “Bailey has been quite busy with his work as of late. But I still intend to teach my only child the ways of proper society.” She gave him a little nudge, motioning to shake Mr. Smith’s hand.

Bailey managed to muster up a smile, shaking it while trying not to wince at how firm it was. “A pleasure to meet you Mr. Smith, madam.” He nodded to the rather young lady.

“Well: Shall I take young Bailey and show him around our mansion?”

“I appreciate your offer sir. But I would much rather stay and be with my…wonderful mother. I haven’t seen her in quite some time.” Bailey smiled, finally pulling his hand out of his hold.

“As you wish Mr. Rhodes.” The man bowed respectfully and began talking of the upcoming trial.

Like with Ichabod, Bailey shared his same feelings towards the use of medieval devices that could only be deemed as torture. That was one reason his mother strongly disapproved of him spending too much of his time with Ichabod.

She even dared once to say that he was ‘brainwashing’ him, that these were not her son’s true thoughts though they clearly were.

“Mr. Smith!” Everyone’s attention turned to the sight of a man much younger than Mr. Smith make his way through the crowds. Even Bailey was surprised to find HIM here.

“Oh bloody….not now.” Mr. Smith whispered gravely while his mistress patted his arm out of ‘comfort’. “Constable Crane,” he sighed wearily. “What ever can I do for you this fine evening?”

“I would like to speak with out about the trial. Would rather…”

“Not tonight Ichabod.”

“If you would just-.”

“Ichabod….”

“Sorry sir.”

“Actually,” Bailey piped up after a moment of silence, ignoring his mother’s glaring look. “I’m a bit curious as well sir. I do work for Constable Crane after all.”

Oh the look on his mother’s face….

“You…You are Constable Crane’s assistant?” Mr. Smith stuttered out, blinking in surprise looking back at his mother. “Mrs. Rhodes: I thought you told us he was studying to become a lawyer?”

Tara laughed whilst trying to hide her nervousness, beginning to explain giving Bailey the perfect opportunity to sneak away with Ichabod. “I guess I should be thanking you for saving me?” Bailey teased with a chuckle.

“Well it wasn’t intentional. I was going to protest about the use of medieval devices on the prisoners. It’s time we’ve embraced England’s new technology.”

Bailey arched a brow. “We’ve just freed ourselves from them though did we not? Why would we want to use their technology or anything from their country?”

“Ah and that my pupil,” Ichabod said as they proceeded out into the yard. A bonfire had been lit up and people were dancing around it in a Celtic style dance form. “That is the question the jury will ask. We are still using Iron Maidens and racks for punishment. Can you imagine how painful that is?” Bailey saw him fiddle with his hand in his other pocket.

Once, he had asked Ichabod where he got those holes from but all the other man had told him was ‘I’ll tell you later’.

Yet later never did come.

“Maybe…it’s not so bad for them,” Bailey tries to add. “I mean, prisoners aren’t good folks are they not? What if their crimes were great enough?”

“Bailey: You know quite well that these devices are used on miss-demeanors. That poor man had a rack used on him while he was only trying to provide money and food for his family, as a father and husband should. Tell me you don’t agree with such forms of torture?”

“….No.” Bailey muttered softly. Feeling ignorant. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Bailey do not worry. You’ve simply been under the influence of this country for far too long and of that mother of yours…” Ichabod muttered under his breath.

“Bailey!”

_Speak of the Devil_

The two turned just in time to see Tara Rhodes approach them, shooting a disapproving glare towards Ichabod before grabbing onto her son’s wrist lightly. “The moon is beginning to set. We should go. Now.”

“But mother I was just discussing something with Mr-.”

“ _Now.”_ Tara hissed in his ear. A weary sigh escaped his lips.

“We actually were discussing something quite important Mrs. Rhodes. I could lead him back to the manor when he deems it.” Ichabod began following the pair. One leading, the other dragged away. Perhaps he truly was a mad man to try and cross Tara Rhodes. She was a woman you did not want to.

“I’m afraid that won’t be needed, Constable Crane.” Tara simply stated, pushing Bailey non too gently in the carriage. Her son, having knowing such a man would decrease the marriage prospects.

“Well fair well Constable.”

“It was a pleasure seeing you again Ichabod.” Bailey replied. His voice was laced with sadness but while to appease his mother somewhat for once, his face showed no emotion.

And all Ichabod could do was watch the carriage travel off back to the Rhodes manor. Wishing there was more he could do for Bailey.


	2. Leaving Home

After receiving another nagging session from his ‘dear sweet mother’, Bailey slammed the door to his room flopping down on his bed. Twenty. He was bloody twenty three years old and yet here he was being treated as if he were a mere teenager!

The next morning when he awoke, he was startled to find their maid Laura going about his clothes picking out tuxedos, fine dress-shirts/shoes and the. “What the bloody hell are you doing Laura?”

“Mr. Rhodes you’ve received an admirers note! You’re to meet her at Trinity Church we must hurry!” Laura said, clear excitement in her voice.

“If it’s Miss. Clarke I refuse.” He said stubbornly, leaning against his headboard already exhausted of the thought. “Plus the woman’s half my age. If she hasn’t found a man yet to settle down with maybe she’s the reason.”

“Oh Mr. Rhodes!” Laura said exasperated. “Please won’t you just cooperate for once?” With that, the maid motioned Bailey to seat himself in front of the vanity while she measured him before putting his suit on. She was much gentler than his mother.

_I’ve got to get the hell out of here and fast_

Was the only thought on his mind as he made his way down the foyer, ignoring his mother at first only to finally acknowledge the woman when she asked for the fifth time where he was heading off to. “I’m going to church to pray for my dearly departed father...”

“But you aren’t wearing the proper color.”

Bailey all but shrugs one shoulder. “Father hated black remember? He said it was too dark. Too morbid looking. A light red was much better. I’ll be back before supper now.” Before she could utter anything more the door had already closed shut.

Fortunately the walk from the manor to Wall Street wasn’t very far. Although Bailey really wished he had his ‘farm boy’ shoes on rather than the blasted things Laura gave him to wear. The skies were beginning to darken and the temperature warmed a little, signaling the signs of a hard rain fall. He hoped this wasn’t a cruel joke set up by Laine Fields and her brother Raul at the party.

They enjoyed tormenting him whenever they got the chance. Laine looked like a porcelain doll when he saw her in the corner, so did her friends. And Raul looked very clean cut, pristine. Bailey much preferred to be getting his hands dirty rather than be like a doll.

“Bailey?”

A wide smile crossed his face the minute he recognized the other man’s voice, bowing respectfully at the sight of him.

“Ichabod! How are you today sir? May I ask why you’re here though?”

“Isn’t it obvious my pupil?” Ichabod spoke in a low whisper. He looked down at the outfit Bailey was wearing arching an eyebrow. “Why are you wearing such clothing?”

“I….Well my maid explained to me Miss. Clarke sent me a marriage request sir.” Baily mumbled, feeling utterly like a fool in front of the other man. Speaking of the blasted woman where was she?

“Bailey…there is no Miss. Clarke to see you.”

“?” He tilted his head to the side at first, frowning thoughtfully thinking it was a trick after all when he realized Ichabod was trying not to grin coyly at him, does he do the same in return. “You really are a sly fox aren’t you constable? Have you heard of the trial yet by the way?”

“I suppose I am. Now why do you ask?” Ichabod asked confused.

Baily took a deep breath, the very words his mother told him last night still firmly imprinted in his thoughts as he told a shocked Ichabod everything. How they were going to send him to Sleepy Hollow to investigate the murders. “Bailey this is horrible…”

“I know. I know how you’re terrified of blood.”

“I’m not ‘terrified’,” Ichabod’s eye twitched a little and Baily chuckled softly. “Just…squeamish. But I’m afraid I must go. It’s a test my young pupil. They want to test me.”

“Then I’ll go with you. I’m your pupil after all right? I’ve assisted you with many crimes.”

The dark haired male shook his head defiantly at Baily’s request. No. No absolutely will he not allow this. “I know you mean well Baily, but this won’t be like our other tasks…and what about your mother?”

“To hell with her!” Bailey replied, trying to keep himself under control as he gazed up at the taller male. “Please Ichabod…I don’t want you to deal with this alone. You know I’m more than capable.”

**~/////~**

“There is a farming community up state, Mr. Constable. Ten days journey north in the Hudson Highlands. It is a town called Sleepy Hollow. Within a fortnight, three persons have been murdered there…each with their head lopped cleanly off.” The high constable said to them the day of the trial.

Bailey was standing beside a flushed face Ichabod from all the arguing. Tara Rhodes could be seen digging her finger nails into her arm, pursing her lips in a thin line. “The elders of the hollow have sent dispatchers to me. Requesting assistance. And now, just this very moment I have chosen you and your assistant.”

The high constable’s expression was that of a cruel one as he leaned back in his chair. Sneering down at them. “Oh: And Constable, young Bailey: Do make certain you meet success. Otherwise, have no intentions of returning at all…am I understood?”

Bailey was about to reply when his mother’s voice echoed around the courtroom. “I absolutely do NOT understand! That…that man is mad I tell you!!” She pointed accusingly towards Ichabod while staring at her son with a pleading look. “Bailey: My only son, please re-consider!”

“Mother…”

“Why in the heavens would you choose to go with such man?! I understand he is your ‘teacher’ but even so!”

“Simply to rid of you dearest mother,” Bailey says. Perhaps he’s cruel saying the rest of his sentence but he couldn’t bare looking at her for one more minute. “Maybe if you’re so dead-set on me not going you take my place? You be the one who shant return!”

“Bailey Rhodes don’t you dare talk to me in such a tone! I carried you for nine months and this is how you treat me?!”

“Oh don’t you pull that card on me. Besides, at least I’m not the one who blabbed about the trial to your friend Amelia.”

Tara’s face fell from his statement as the high constable shot her a questioning look. Swallowing nervously. “H-He…the boy is disturbed constable. He knows not of what he speaks of.”

“Oh mother!” Bailey hissed in exasperation. “You brag about how Amelia’s daughter became a married woman at fifteen and pregnant at sixteen! Yet you don’t even allow me to make my own decisions?”

If looks could only kill. Tara would have murdered her own son with her glare. “Now. We will speak more of this back home. Ichabod, I will see you in the morning. Mother, I’ll meet you back at the manor. Don’t worry I am capable of walking rather than riding thank you.”

**~////~**

The atmosphere of the Rhodes manor was deeply troubling. “Bailey Rhodes you are not leaving this household! I forbid it…are you even listening to me?!” Tara screeched as Bailey stomped up the long, spiral stairs leading to his bedroom. “My goodness: You….You seem to be ‘infatuated’ with Constable Crane since he’s taken you as his assistant.” She stated.

He did not have to turn around to see that she was repulsed by her own theory. Reaching the top of the stairs, he leered down at her with the evilest look you could imagine.

“Mother….whether you approve or not, I believe that the constable and I were meant to meet one another. Laura,” he began speaking to his maid once he reached his room. “Please do make sure she doesn’t lock me in my room.”

“Yes sir.” She bowed respectfully. “Are you for certain though this is really what you wish to do?”

“It is: Constable….Ichabod Crane needs my assistance. Who would I be to let him go alone?” Bailey muttered, closing the lid of his packed suitcase of only the most important things for the mission.

Within a matter of seconds, Bailey bid his farewells to Laura-she was the only one he felt close with honestly. Like a sister. He did not even meet his mother’s now deeply concerned look as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

 _No._ He tells himself firmly, clutching his suitcase handle tight. _No don’t be fooled. She’s only doing it to stop you. Keep you locked in this god forsaken manor…._

“Bailey….my son this is highly unethical. It’s…It’s improper of a man your society to be with another man let alone someone such as Ichabod Crane. You will ruin our family name.” Tara tries to plead.

But Bailey ignores her. He doesn’t just has to do this: He WANTS to. If anything were to happen to Ichabod, he would never forgive himself. “Dear mother, if I return to New York it won’t be for you….it will be to continue to stand by Ichabod’s side.”

And with that he had left. It wasn’t long for when he found a black carriage at the corner, with a sickly looking man inside playing with a child’s toy nervously. The moment he looks up however, his eyes are wide at the sight of a grinning Bailey looking inside.

“Bailey,” Ichabod breathes out, scooting over instantly for the young man to climb in setting his things aside. “So you managed to escape your mother. We should make haste then: wouldn’t want her catching up to us.”

“Yes you’re right,” Bailey cleared his throat after their hug, shaking hands after instead. “Mother just…let me go Ichabod. The woman didn’t say a word. She only damned us by her very soul of course. You know how dramatic she can be.”

As soon as Bailey’s luggage was secure with Ichabod’s, their long trek to Sleepy Hollow began.

 


	3. Welcome To Sleepy Hollow And A Little Tale

Bailey and Ichabod could already feel the tension radiating off of the small hollow when their carriage dropped them off. For some reason as well he thought everything looked much ‘grayer’ in this area, not bright and lit like the bustling city of New York.

They glanced up when people glowered at them from inside their homes, shutting the windows with a loud SLAM so they’d get the hint outsiders weren’t welcomed. It wasn’t until the duo stop when they see a group of men talking with one another. Seeming to have a plan for whatever. There they could see a young boy handing a bag to a man who appeared to be his father no doubt.

“Quite a disturbing place we have here.” Ichabod muttered. “Stay close to me Bailey…”

“Don’t worry about that.” Bailey muttered back.

Both had the very same thoughts until they reached the Van Tassel mansion, Ichabod knocking loudly on the doors. It appeared to be a party was going on inside: With music, dancing and Hallows Eve games present.

“For people who know others are being murdered horrifically, they sure seem to know how to have a jolly good time.” Bailey couldn’t help but say with a shake of his head. “You’d think they’d be terrified.”

To their right, their eyes widened seeing a man and woman kissing one another as if there very lives were at stake. “Clearly not afraid to show public displays of affection either.” Ichabod whispered.

As soon as they were led inside, Bailey could see men, women and children alike gathered around. The women were gossiping and the males were laughing, drunk out of their minds.

It were as if a murder or ‘murders’ had never took place.

Walking further through the crowds Ichabod and Bailey spotted a young woman with a blindfold over her eyes playing the ‘Pickety Witch’ game with some younger men. _“The Pickety Witch, the Pickety Witch: Who’s got a kiss for the Pickety Witch? Pickety Witch, the Pickety Witch, who’s got a kiss for the Pickety Witch?”_

She continued to sing yet stopped when her hands were placed upon Bailey’s face in which the other froze in shock as did Ichabod. “Is it Theodore?” The young lady asked with a beautiful smile across her face.

“Um….P-Pardon me miss, I’m just a stranger.” Bailey responded.

“Then have a kiss on my account.”

The moment her lips touched his, something inside Ichabod stirred. Yet he could not pin point what that strange feeling was. It was something he hadn’t felt before, watching as she removes the blindfold from her eyes and her face flushes in embarrassment when she sees Bailey.

But before either Katrina or Ichabod could react, a large burly man grabbed Bailey roughly by his shoulders forcing him around. “And who are you ‘friend’?” The man sneered at a now frightened Bailey who was trying not to piss himself out of fright on the spot. He strongly resembled one of Raul’s ‘bodyguards’ that used to torment Bailey through his childhood.

“Brom that’s enough. Release him.” Katrina spoke sternly, sending an apologetic look over to Ichabod who asked Bailey if he was alright when Brom let him go.

“I’m fine…the big lug’s lucky I didn’t use my signature move on him though.”

“You mean hit him in the throat and run away screaming like a little girl?”

“That was only ONE time!”

The young lady laughed politely at their little banter as she introduced herself soon after. “I’m terribly sorry about Brom. My name is Katrina Van Tassel…daughter of Baltus Van Tassel.”

“We were wondering if you could lead us to your father?’ Ichabod asked once they straightened properly.

Katrina gave a nod and was about to lead them through but Brom interrupted. “And what about your names?” He growled out.

Bailey shot him an annoyed expression. “We have not said them yet. Excuse us.” But the burly man grabs Ichabod by the collar of his shirt: Bailey tried going over to stop him yet the other’s two goons blocked his way.

“You need some manners!”

“Brom!” Katrina says with exasperation, shooting Brom a scowling look.

“Come on fellas: We don’t want to fight…” Bailey tries to reason, getting ready to use his ‘secret technique’ (minus the screaming and running away part of it) when fortunately the cavalry arrived just in time.

Baltus Van Tassel and Katrina’s step mother Mary proceeded down the stairs towards the chaotic scene. “Come, come!” He said warningly. Fortunately, Brom’s goons allowed Bailey to pass and Brom dropped Ichabod non too gently back on his feet. “We want no raised voices. It is only to raise spirit during this dark time, that I and my dear wife are having this party.”

All the while as Baltus had spoke, Brom was beginning to plan out his revenge for the two ‘outsiders’. Especially towards Bailey whom ‘dared’ to kiss his beloved Katrina.

“You sirs are welcome even! Even if you are only selling something.” Baltus continued.

Ichabod nods grateful after moving his hand from Bailey’s shoulder. "Thank you, sir. I am Constable Ichabod Crane, sent to you from New York with authority to investigate murders in Sleepy Hollow. And this is my assistant Bailey Rhodes.” Handing the man an envelope to prove he was a constable and Bailey was his assistant.

"Then, Sleepy Hollow is grateful to you, Constable Crane, young Bailey. I hope you will honor us by staying in this house.” Lady Van Tassel stated with a kind expression.

“Well-spoken my dear. Come, let us get you settled…play on.” He encouraged the musicians to keep playing while Baltus looked four important looking men in the eye as they all gathered themselves, leading them into another room away from the party.

**~////~**

Ichabod and Bailey began unpacking their things once they were settled into their room. “So….” Bailey began after an uncomfortable moment of silence, unpacking some books he had brought with him. Books of numerous topics: Some science and some quite far from science…even bringing along one that dealt with the occult.

Of course, he always tried to keep those hidden from Ichabod. He didn’t want another lecture on how such things couldn’t possibly exist. “What do you think of Katrina?”

Ichabod shrugged one shoulder, setting a piece of his medical equipment down. “She’s quite beautiful. But we’re not here to ogle at the women remember.”

“I’m well aware of that sir. Just making small talk is all. Besides, I’m not even sure I’m attracted to women anyway as is.”

Well now that was an interesting remark. Ichabod’s eyes widened slightly hearing him mutter such thing. “I-I see.” Ichabod cleared his throat. “How…informative?”

Bailey chuckled at his reaction, about ready to explain when one of the maids came in with a bowl of water. "Thank you, please tell Mr. Van Tassel that we will be down in a minute.” He told her.

The maid, Sarah gave a nod of her head curtsying a little. “Yes sir.” Just as she turned to leave, she turned back around whispering to them both. “Thank God you’re both here.”

They looked at one another in surprise at her confession. Were things really that much of a travesty in the small little hollow? While Bailey unpacked one more book, he groaned inwardly when Ichabod rolled his eyes at the sight of another book on the occult. “Bailey: I’ve told you time and time again about reading such things….”

_And here we go: Same old song being sung…_

The five elders sat grimly in their seats waiting for Ichabod and Bailey to enter. Baltus Van Tassel, Magistrate Philips, Reverend Steenwych, Doctor Landcaster, and Notary Hardenbrook the five town elders. A dispute was going on among them. “All the way from New York…what can they possibly do?”

"Gentlemen, Gentlemen", Baltus soothingly replied calming his friends. "Excellent! Excellent please come in. My dear could you please?” Mary nodded in understanding as she and Sarah took their leave once Ichabod and Bailey proceeded in.

The constable stared in the room eyeing each one of them. _Any of them could be the murderer_ he thought. "So....three persons murdered. First Peter Van Garret, then his son Dirk Van Garret. Both of them strong capable men, found together decapitated.” He circled the room like a hawk while Bailey began taking notes as he always had.

"A week later, the Widow Winship also found....decapitated. I will need to ask you many questions but I must ask is anyone suspected?" Magistrate Phillips choked on his tea whereas others looked shocked at his question.

"I'm sorry I do not believe I understand you?” Baltus asked confused. Bailey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“He means if anyone is a suspect of these detestable acts of murder.” He clarified.

Baltus cleared his throat. “Constable, young man: How much has the High Constable told you?”

Ichabod looked confused but he continues. "Only that the three were found slain in open fields their head severed from their bodies.” He explained.

Reverend Steenwyck had spoken up, "Their heads were not found severed. Their heads were not found at all.” Bailey and Ichabod were shocked beyond belief. Heads not found at all? Blasphemous!

“P-Pardon?” Bailey whispered.

"Taken, taken by the headless horseman. Taken back to hell.” The slightly creepy Notary Hardenbrook stated, taking off his glasses and cleaning one of the lenses.

“Pardon but we do not under-.”

"Perhaps you had better sit down,” Baltus suggested. Ichabod did just that as had Bailey, both taking a cup of tea while the other listens intently to what they’re about to be told. The only sound in the room before Katrina’s father speaks is that of the fire crackling and popping. "The Horseman was a Hessian mercenary, sent to these shores by German princes to keep Americans under the yoke of England,”

"But unlike his compatriots who came for the love of money, the horseman came for the love of carnage. He rode a giant black steed named Daredevil. He was infamous for riding hard into battle chopping off heads heads at full gallop.”

"To look upon him made your blood run cold, for he had filed down his teeth to sharp points....to add to the ferocity....of his appearance.”

Bailey couldn’t help but grimace at the image he had of such horseman imprinted in his very mind. It was one he was sure wouldn’t help him sleep tonight, nervously taking a sip of his tea as Baltus continued.

“This butcher would not meet his end until the winter of seventy-nine.................not far from here. From our Western Woods".

"They cut off his head with his own sword. To this day, the Western Woods are a haunted place where brave men do not venture for what was planted in the ground that day was a seed of evil,

And so it has been for twenty years. But now the Hessian wakes- he is on a rampage, cutting off heads where he finds them.”

Ichabod sat there with his hands shaking like a leaf in the wind, spilling a little of his tea even. Bailey was at a loss for words. He didn’t know what to think. What to feel about the situation. "Are you........saying.....this is what.......you believe?" Ichabod finally speaks.

"Seeing is believing", as Notary HardenBrook once again creeped Ichabod out.

"No one knows why the Hessian has chosen this time to return from the grave", Dr. Landcaster said as the others shook their heads in agreement. "Satan has called forth one of his own. They tell me you have brought books and trappings of scientific investigation.”

Reverend Steenwyck rose from his seat, picking up a rather large, leather bound book setting it on the table. "This is the only book I recommend you study.” He had left them a Bible.

Ichabod stood up slowly once more. "Gentlemen.....murder needs no ghost come from the grave. We have murders in New York without benefit of ghouls and goblins.”

“Yes there’s got to be some explanation for all that’s been going on.” Bailey chimes in.

"You are a long way from New York Constable, young Bailey.” Baltus said. It was now an eerie silence in the library.

"A century at least. The Assassin is a man of flesh and blood and we will discover him.”

**~////~**

Bailey had, in all honesty know knowledge as to what compelled him exactly to creep out into the Western Woods that same evening. As cowardice he knew this sounded for a young man his age, Bailey had a fear of the dark. Hell he hadn’t even told Ichabod this fear of his nor his maid Laura.

Really why was he here?

The night air was cooled and something close to that of expectation had crossed his mind. Expecting what exactly he had no idea. Then that’s when he hears it. A horse’s whiny. There are no wild horses around these parts (well that he knows of anyway).

He can feel his chest tighten and constrict uncomfortably. His eyes wide, shaking his head in disbelief as a black figure on a dark horse comes into view. The horse stops right in front of him and tears prickle behind Bailey’s eyes as he sinks to the ground. No. No he was too young to die! He had so much ahead of him.

 _A…head. Get it folks? A…HEAD?_ He shakes his head quickly however. Now was not the time for jokes!

Bailey got up to run only to yelp as he was grabbed by the darkened figures black gloved hand, pinning him effortlessly to the tree.

He kicked and squirmed but his legs were pinned as well. The headless horseman raised his sword high in the air and Bailey squeezes his eyes tight. _Fare thee well Ichabod: I’ll miss you terribly…_

But his head was not sliced clean off his body. It was not rolling on the ground only to be carried back to hell. The tip of it strikes just where Bailey’s heart was.

Before Bailey passed out, he swears he hears the sounds of obnoxious laughter.

                                                  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...have to admit after watching this movie again...I kind of thought Christopher Walken was 'attractive' in a way as the Horseman before he lost his head ^^; I know. You don't have to tell me I have weird taste in men XD


	4. Next Murder

Bailey’s eyes flew open the very next morning. He sat up quickly from his bed, looking around with a wild expression about his face. _H-How…How did I end up here? Wasn’t I in the woods? And where’s Ichabod?_

“Oh thank the heavens you’re awake young sir!”

His eyes traveled over to the maid Sarah whom held a smile of relief on her face, getting his clothes for the day ready for him to wear. “Mr. Van Braunt carried you in. Poor Constable Crane looked like he was about to faint from worry when he saw you unconscious…”

“Van Braunt?” Oh. He realized she was referring to Brom. Katrina’s over protective, arrogant ‘bodyguard’. “Miss…can you tell me what time it is?” Bailey finally questioned, seeing the morning mist looming over the dark town.

Sarah nodded. “Of course young sir. It’s seven am. Constable Crane had already gone off to meet with Mr. Killian.”

“Can you give me instructions how to get there?”

The woman nodded, giving him the details whilst leaving the room so he could slip on his shirt and vest outfit while putting on a pair of trousers. He pulled on his coat, thanked Sarah for giving him a piece of homemade pumpkin bread on the way and carried on.

Sleepy Hollow truly earned its name well he noticed, stepping out into the cooled morning air. He finished off the really quite delicious bread while taking note of his surroundings. Few people were awake, most were still nestled in their homes unlike the bustling city of New York where many seemed to be up at all hours of the night.

Bailey soon located the barn where he found Ichabod conversing with a red haired male whom headed into the barn.

Ichabod’s eyes widened at the sight, shaking his head. “Bailey! Are you certain you should be up and about now?”

“Oh Ichabod I’m fine alright? Please don’t worry.”

“I am still puzzled though as to why Mr. Van Braunt told me he found you out in the woods…what were you doing out there?”

The dark haired male shrugs one shoulder, frowning in thought. At first, it felt as if something had been…’calling’ him in a way as strange as it sounded. Then the rest is nothing but a blur.

Mr. Killian soon came back out of the barn, leading a rather sleepy looking older gray horse with him. "His name is Gunpowder." The man stated with pride.

"He should do just fine." Ichabod said, slapping Gunpowder on the rump coughing as dust blew off from the horse.

Once Mr. Killian spotted Bailey, he quickly went back inside the barn bringing back out with him another horse. A cream colored mare with a white mane. She looked much healthier then Gunpowder. “Ah and this: Is Beatrice.”

Bailey smiled politely at him, laughing softly when the mare sniffed a little at his hair. “I’m sure she’ll do just fine sir. Thank you.”

"Now if you need any help, you just call my name." He said.

“Of course. We thank you.” Ichabod said, flinching away when Gunpowder bumped his head against his looking to his right seeing Bailey already becoming familiar with Beatrice. In the house beside the barn, a pregnant woman left, and a red-haired woman followed, stopped in the doorway and smiled. She spotted a young boy playing a few yards away.

“Thomas! Inside!” She called to him.

As soon as the little red haired boy ran to his mother, Mr. Killian swooped him up happily kissing him once on the head. “Go on and have your breakfast: Kiss your mother once for you and twice for me.”

When Ichabod and Bailey took hold of their horse’s reigns, a loud gunshot rang through the air echoing around the peaceful village following a man’s panicked cries. “Murder! The horseman’s killed again!”

"Come on Gunpowder, we're off!” Ichabod stated.

Mr. Killian came back out of the barn retrieving his own horse. Ichabod had difficulty getting on his saddle, noting Bailey shaking his head with a deadpanned expression. “Need some assistance Ichabod?” He asked from his perch, fighting the urge to laugh.

“No, no. I’m quite fine Bailey…there we go.” He finally managed to get on his saddle after handing Bailey his bag to hold. Wrapping his scarf around his neck, Bailey kicked his horse’s sides lightly trying to keep up with Mr. Killian.

Ichabod’s horse on the other hand was being a hassle.

"Giddy-up… no, no… this way…" Ichabod said steering the horse in the right direction. Gunpowder began to walk forward. "Good horsey."

**~////~**

It was some moments later when Ichabod finally arrived at his destination in the woods. Bailey rolled his eyes lightly finally spotting the man, shaking his head in disbelief. “About time.” He muttered. Around them were the four men whom were present at Baltus's meeting in the study area last night. Brom was there as well, groaning softly at the sight of Ichabod.

They were all standing around the sight of Masbeth’s decapitated corpse.

The body was on its back with its arms on its stomach. Doctor Lancaster was crouching by the body.

"It's alright. I'm here now." Ichabod stated, mounting his horse. Brom rolled his eyes again. As he approached the body, he thanks Bailey quietly for handing him his bag motioning the other to get closer.

You’d think for as long Bailey had been helping Ichabod he would have grown used to the sight of corpses. But this was nothing like the ones back in New York… He tried to get close, but the urge to gag was stronger in which he finds himself looking away as did Ichabod.

"The fourth victim. Jonathan Masbeth." Said Dr. Lancaster.

"Ah. I-I see… A-and the head?"

“Taken.” Phillips said.

"Taken… Interesting. Very interesting…" Ichabod said, turning to the group again.

“What is?” Baltus asked.

“Usually in headless corpse’s cases like this, the head is often removed usually to prevent identification of the person.” Bailey explained. “Only it would seem you folks know whom this man is right?”

“Of course we do: It’s Jonathan Masbeth.” Baltus interjected.

"Precisely, so why was the head removed?" Ichabod said, recovering from his mistake.

“Why….?”

“Right!” Ichabod proceeded. It was then that he and Bailey noticed that the body had been moved from its previous spot. Ichabod walks down the line of men with his hands clasped behind his back, standing before Lancaster. “Was the body moved?”

“Yes…” Lancaster admitted confused.

"You must never move the body!" Ichabod said loudly.

When Lancaster asked why Bailey spoke up. “Because…” he began. He and Ichabod noticed the hoof prints around the body and some boot prints as well. He takes long strides over each footprint that he sees, trying to mimic what the offender had done. “Look at these strides: They’re gigantic!”

Next, Ichabod pretended he was galloping on a horse past Masbeth’s corpse. "Turned his horse," he made a loop around, “And came back.” He said after making his way back to the group. “Came back….”

“For the head.” Bailey continued. His face a paleish color. Not understanding why one would return for the head of a body…what would the purpose be? He snapped out of his own questioning however when Ichabod asked him if he would open up his bag, pulling out a small rack of bottles for him.

He kneels down beside Ichabod after putting on his own pair of goggles, watching Ichabod sprinkle a strange looking powder acid on the ground close to where the head once was. They watch as the powder begins to sizzle.

"Yes. There's a chemical reaction. It shows there was a powerful, singular thrust to the neck." Ichabod told the small group. Bailey then had gone through Ichabod’s bag again, pulling out a pair of tongs for him to use next.

The men around the duo looked at one another confused.

“Now…” Ichabod began. He crouched by the severed neck. Bailey was trying all the while to not look at the scorched neck bone, using the tongs he brought with him Ichabod used them to pull some of the shirt collar away. A beetle quickly scurries out, causing Bailey to immediately recoil, gasping in shock and Ichabod making a gagging sound.

"Interesting." Ichabod said with a strangled voice. “Wouldn’t you agree Bailey?”

“Y-Yes. Very…”

"What is it?" Baltus asked.

"The wound was cauterized in the very instant, as though the blade itself were…" He turned to the group. "Red-hot. And yet, no blistering, no scorched flesh." He concluded.

“The Devil’s Fire…” Whispered Magistrate Phillips.

The group of townsmen soon lift the body of Masbath onto a cart, wheeling it out of the woods. Bailey wiped some sweat dripping from his forehead not at all understanding any of this. “What on Earth have we gotten ourselves into?” He muttered to Ichabod, climbing onto his mare as Ichabod had with Gunpowder.

“Even I don’t hold all the answers Bailey.” Ichabod replied simply.

What reason? What reason could their possibly have been, for an innocent man like Masbath to be murdered? It made Bailey’s blood boil with anger. “We have to figure this out soon, Ichabod. We can’t allow any more innocents to be murdered like this.”

Ichabod all but stares at the ground after climbing on Gunpowder. Stroking the horse’s face while staring into the misty forest depths. “You’re right,” he murmured. Something was out there. Something was petrifying these town folks…playing off of their worst nightmares. “We NEED to stop this.”

**~////~**

"The vigilant, as say-eth in the book of Peter. Chapter five, verse eight." Reverend Steenwyck began to say at Jonathan Masbeth’s funeral the very next day. The whole town had been in attendance as a lazy mist hung about. Katrina was beside Brom, wiping her eyes with a small hankerchief.

Funerals were no stranger to Bailey, watching a young boy standing in isolation beside the Reverend looking at his now deceased father’s grave site. Looking at the boy reminded him of his father’s funeral when he was at the age of seven years…

Ichabod stood beside Bailey, one hand on his shoulder stroking it lightly. His face grim, listening to the Reverend speak. He glances over at Brom and Katrina briefly. Brom meets his eyes and gives him a glare, pulling Katrina close.

"God rest, Jonathan Masbeth." Reverend Steenwyck finished. The entire town was in mourning for the remainder of the day and days to come. Sleepy Hollow was one of those towns where everyone knew everyone. A close knit community. Ichabod watches in slight surprise, yet not at all as Bailey makes his way over towards the Young Masbeth.

He places a hand on the boy’s shoulder, whispering something to him. The boy’s eyes gathered more tears as he wraps his arms tight around Bailey’s waist. Bailey returns the hug, awkwardly petting the other’s hair. After a second, young Masbeth pulls back and takes a deep, choked up breath bowing gratefully to Bailey.

"Mr. Constable, Sir." Young Masbeth says loudly, jogging towards Ichabod as does Bailey whom catches up with him.

"Ah… you're Young Masbeth." He said, turning to give the boy a smile of sympathy.

"I was Young Masbeth… but now the only one." Young Masbeth said. "Masbeth at your service. In honor, bound to avenge my father."

Ichabod shoots Bailey a questioning look, watching as the other all but shrugs one shoulder. Just what had he told the boy? "Well, one and only Masbeth, I thank you very much, but your mother will need you more than I or Bailey will.” He stated.

Bailey gave Masbeth’s shoulder a light pat of comfort. Young Masbeth looked up again. "My mother is in Heaven, Sir. She has my father now to care for her. But you two don’t have anyone to serve you. I am your man, Sir!" Young Masbeth insisted.

“Yes and a brave one at that, but Bailey and I cannot take care of you.” Ichabod found it difficult to look at the young boy’s face any longer. He put his hand on the other shoulder that wasn’t occupied by Bailey’s. "I'm sorry for your loss, young master Masbeth." Ichabod said. He pat his shoulder a few times motioning Bailey to follow.

“Ichabod we can’t just-.”

“Not now, Bailey. I don’t know what you told him but you know it’s out of the question.”

Bailey shot him a look of disbelief and shock. From the corner of his eye he could see the only Masbeth standing before his father’s grave in a sulking manner. Before he could say anymore to Ichabod about the matter, Magistrate Phillips made his way over.

"Constable Crane." He said. “Young Bailey.”

“Magistrate Phillips.” Ichabod greeted. Bailey merely nodded.

"There is something you must know. Jonathan Masbeth was not the fourth victim." Philips had said, taking off his wig and wringing it in his hands. “But the fifth.”

“The fifth?” They asked in unison incredulously.

“Aye,” the magistrate nodded grimly. “Five victims. Four graves.”

“What was that about?” Bailey murmured, watching the magistrate quickly take his leave with the Reverend. Ichabod’s eyes soon traveled to the graves, seeing only four. Bailey raised a brow. “…Ichabod? You don’t think-?”

"Young Masbeth!" He called. Young Masbeth turned to look at him. "Find a place in the Van Tassel's servant's quarters. Wake us before dawn. Hope you have a strong stomach.”


	5. Hellish Night

By the time Ichabod, Bailey and Masbeth returned to the Van Tassel manor most of its inhabitants were quiet. The maid Sarah offered to show the young Masbeth his room. He smiles back and follows after her.

Ichabod let out a shuttering sigh, running a hand down his face really not looking forward to the following morning. He began reading a book when young Masbeth knocks on their door. Bailey caught him smiling briefly for a second, smirking to himself.

“Come in, young Masbeth.” He said.

Young Masbeth walked in and looked around, stopping by a window before turning to face the other two. “So Constable Crane, why must I wake you two before dawn?” He asked curiously.

“So that we may investigate the victim’s bodies.” Bailey explained, setting his book aside for a moment.

“What’s the purpose of that?”

“So that we uncover the fifth victim.” Ichabod explained to him.

Masbeth blinked in confusion, glancing back and forth between them. “The fifth? But there are only four graves…” He wasn’t the only one confused by that.

“The magistrate Phillips told us that there was a fifth victim.” Ichabod said.

Three knocks soon sounded outside their door. Katrina poked her head in, smiling softly at the sight of young Masbeth having joined them. “I hope I’m not intruding but dinner’s ready. Would you care to join us or have your food brought up to you?”

“I’d like to take it up here.” Ichabod told her.

Young Masbeth was still seated on Ichabod’s chair, looking as if he were to be on the verge of sleep any moment. “Young Masbeth: Why don’t you rest? We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” Bailey replied to him in a gentle tone. He nodded, shuffling out to get to his own room.

**~////~**

“Peter Van Garret….Dirk Van Garret….Jonathan Masbeth…the Widow Winship,” Ichabod said aloud as he, Bailey and young Masbeth paced about the graves. Some kind townsfolk helped dig up the widows.

“Five victims…four graves.” Masbeth heard Bailey mutter under his breath. “The bloody hell could this mean?”

The last coffin which held the widow was finally removed from the ground, the men worked to get the lid off. Although the body was headless it was cleared to be that of a woman. Ichabod leaned over the body, checking its severed neck area. Just as the case with Jonathan Masbeth: There was no scorch nor blistering of the neck. Bailey went over to check the others. They to were all the same result. It was then however, that Ichabod noticed something for his eyebrows had scrunched up. He reached out noticing some of the bodice was opened, opening it to reveal the stomach.

Just below the navel was a little red mark.

He glanced over at Bailey whom seemed to have the same idea in mind.

**~////~**

Doctor Lancaster had been organizing his documents the very morning when his door flew open. "Bring the Widow in!" Ichabod ordered. Mr. Killian and another man had done just that, setting the widow’s body down on a cleared table.

"This is most irregular, Constable!" Dr. Lancaster exclaimed in shock.

"I should hope so, Doctor, but in this case, necessary. I shall need to operate immediately." Ichabod said as Bailey handed him his bag opening it up after.

“Operate?” The doctor asked. A look of bewilderment on his features. “She’s-.”

“Dead? We’re aware of that sir.” Bailey explained, taking out some of Ichabod’s equipment that caused Masbeth, Killian and Lancaster to look on in curiosity at the strange designs having not seen the likes of them before.

"To what is your purpose is the question." Dr. Lancaster said. Ichabod glanced up at him. “What manor of instruments are these?” He asked, picking up one of Ichabod’s tools.

“Some of my own design…” The constable replied with a sheepish tone. “Uh, well then! Bailey: Do kindly show these gentlemen out won’t you?”

Bailey nodded quickly in understanding, making a little shooing motions with his hands. “The constable is correct: Off you go now, thank you very much for your help by the way Mr. Killian.” He gave the red haired man a brief hand shake finally closing the door. A shuttering sigh escaped his lips as he swallowed, trying not to grimace at the sight of the slight decomposed corpse.

“So…shall we begin Ichabod?”

After a little longer, Bailey opened the doors to the doctors. Dear God in Heaven: The looks on the magistrates, the doctor’s, Killian and Masbath’s faces when they saw Ichabod and his assistant covered in blood.

Bailey was trying to hold his gagging and keep his composure. He had tried to duck each time blood splurted from the Widow’s stomach (using Ichabod as a shield for the most part and Ichabod doing the same vice versa with he), only to have failed miserably.

“W-We’re finished…with the operation.”

"What in the name of God have you done to her?" Reverend Steenwyck angrily demanded.

"We are dealing… with a madman." Ichabod stated loudly for the men to hear.

“What did you find out Constable?” Phillips asked.

Bailey took a small breath before speaking. Hoping his words were not shaken as he spoke. “We’ve…discovered that the Widow, was with child.”

**~////~**

Once they had bathed, had a fantastic dinner and rested for a while Ichabod suggested that he and Bailey take a little stroll through the town that night taking Gunpowder and Beatrice out.

The full moon was the only source of light they had, yet even that was obscured by the dark clouds of late. “Ugh,” Bailey could be heard muttering whilst running a hand quickly through his hair. “I think I still have blood from the Widow in it…that’s going to take a while to get out.”

Ichabod gave a roll of his eyes when they made their way towards the bridge over the stream below. “You’re starting to complain like your mother you know.” He dared to say, almost smirking in satisfactory seeing his assistant’s jaw slack open.

“Me? S-Sound like HER? Oh that’s blasphemous Crane!” Bailey scoffed.

He always took it as an insult when people compared him to his mother. They were nothing alike as far as he could see. Perhaps in the face department they could be, but even then he still considered it an insult.

But since they’ve first arrived in the hollow, he could not help but wonder how she was faring. What with his father long since passed he supposed he did feel some guilt leaving her the way he had.

“….Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

Ichabod glanced at him. “Your mother? ….Perhaps. Though it’s always hard to say with that woman. Feeling some guilt are we?”

“Maybe a little.” Bailey sighed wearily.

Ichabod moved Gunpowder closer to Beatrice, so he could lightly pat the back of Bailey’s hand earning a small smile from him. “You know how strong she is. I know secretly though she does care about you, Bailey. She’s still your mother no matter what happens.”

“I get that Ichabod,” Bailey pursed his lips in a thin line. “I only wished she actually showed it more often. You can let go of my hand now if you’d like.”

“!” Ichabod quickly recoiled, clearing his throat earning a chuckle from the other. “R-Right. My apologizes.”

“Don’t be…Sometimes I like it when you do that.” Bailey murmured.

The ride continued in silence for the most part, yet both couldn’t shake that feeling of being watched. Something they had felt since they first left the Van Tassel manor in fact. Ichabod heard an odd echo-y sound and he halted Gunpowder as Bailey did with Beatrice, whom was beginning to grow a little antsy.

“Shhhh,” Bailey soothed. “You’re alright girl. It’s okay…”

A loud whiny was suddenly heard from behind and it hadn’t come from their horses. Ichabod slowly dared to turn behind him. “Who’s there?” He called out.

Suddenly, a large black horse with a headless rider appeared. Bailey’s mouth fell open when he saw him…the figure he had seen in the Western Woods that night. Only this time, he held a flamed Jack-O-Lantern in his hand. “Ichabod. We have to run…”

“Why ever-?”

“Just run you fool!”

Ichabod blanched a silent scream as he quickly follows suit after kicking Gunpowder’s sides, watching the rider’s horse rear back soon taking off after them.

Ichabod and Bailey make a mad dash into the woods. Blood pounding in their ears. Bailey dared to look behind once again to see the rider was quickly catching up, his face turning a sickly pale color. The rider's horse reared up and the rider held the carved pumpkin higher then hurled it towards Ichabod. Still burning.

“Ichabod!” Bailey cried out as the pumpkin hit Ichabod straight at his face, knocking him off of Gunpowder.

The 'headless' rider slowly slowed down and stopped by two waiting men. One man steadied the horse and the other walked up to the rider. Brom Bones tosses the cape over his shoulders with a proud smirk on his face. Sandbags were placed on his shoulders to make him look headless.

“That was brilliant!” Theodore cackled with glee, slapping Brom on the leg in approval. “First you got that Rhodes fellow and now Crane!”

Ichabod could hear their laughter and talking in the distance along with Bailey but his words were garbled. “….bastards…..get them back….are you….right Ichabod?”

That was all he heard before his eyes roll up to his head and he faints.

All the while he was dreaming. Dreaming of a beautiful woman with a blindfold on at first, moving around in a circle and calling out to him. Her blue dress portrayed elegance, made of the finest of silks. Her hair was long and brown, flowing gracefully down her back. Throughout his dreaming, Ichabod saw brief flashes of the woman and of a man…his father.

Then he saw his mother gesture for him to follow her into a large room with a large fireplace. Again his father appeared. He always had when he had such dreams.

Then he saw his father watching them from the window outside, in the rain. He saw that red door again. It swung open and he caught a glimpse of gruesome torture devices. Then his father's smirking face.

Ichabod awoke with a great start in the middle of the night. Sweat dripping from his forehead as he looks to find Bailey sound asleep in a chair beside the bed. _He…must have brought me back_ he thinks. There was no question of that. A thoughtful frown crossed his face, thinking of the trouble Bailey must have had carrying him and bringing Gunpowder back as well. _No thanks to those hooligans_

He thinks again with a scowl, picking Bailey carefully up from the chair and laying him on the bed putting him under the covers. A soft smile crosses Ichabod’s face watching the other male sleep so peacefully.

Before he leaves the room, he lightly brushes some stray strands of hair from Bailey’s face and only lightly pecks his forehead. “Thank you…” he whispered.

Everyone in the house was asleep and the only light came from a candle he was carrying. He began pouring himself a glass of water when he spotted there was a light coming from another room.

Setting the glass down, he curiously goes over to see who could still be up at such hours of the night.

He gently pushed the door open and froze. Katrina. She was seated by the fireplace reading.

"Oh! I'm sorry for the intrusion. I saw light." Ichabod stated, making a move to back out but stops when she speaks.

"It's no intrusion. I come here to read when I awaken in the night." Katrina explained. He can’t help but notice how she hides the book she seemed to be so engaged in reading-noting that Bailey did the same thing with his certain books.

"You read books, which you must hide?" He asked.

"They were my mother's books. My father believes tales of romance caused the brain fever that killed my mother." Katrina told him. "She died two years ago, come winter. The nurse that cared for her is now Lady Van Tassel."

"But there is something else. Why did none think to mention that the Van Garrett's are kith and kin to the Van Tassels?" Ichabod asked.

"Because there is hardly a household in Sleepy Hollow that is not connected to every other by blood and marriage." Katrina says with a kind smile.

“I see.”

Ichabod turns towards the window, looking out into the dark and misty forest he and Bailey emerged from hours ago. He feels Katrina stand beside him not long after. "This land was Van Garrett land. Given to my father when I was in swaddling clothes. The Van Garrett's were the richest family around these parts. When my family came to Sleepy Hollow the Van Garrett's gave him an acre and a broken down cottage. My father worked hard for his family, and prospered and built this house. And I owe my happiness to him.”

She laughed softly.

"I remember living poor in the cottage." She looked up at him with a slightly bigger smile. " Shall I show you?" She asked.

Well there couldn’t be any harm in that now could there? He accepted her offer. “Yes.” He said.

The girl took out a small, blue book from her robes. “Take this.” She told him. The cover read 'A Compendium of Spells, Charms, and Devices of the Spirit World.' “It is my gift to you.”

“No. I have no use for it.” Ichabod stated, clasping his hands behind his back. He never did understand why Bailey was into reading such nonsense things. He and Katrina would get along just fine Ichabod believed….

"Are you and that assistant of yours always so certain of everything?" Katrina asked, a small smirk lingering on her face. Ichabod had tried to not show of his and takes her book. When he opens the front page, he sees in fancy writing the names Elizabeth Van Tassel and Katrina’s name.

"It… was your mother's."

"Keep it close to your heart. It is sure protection." Katrina assured him.

"Are you so certain of everything?" Ichabod asked. Katrina smiled. “…It was Bailey whom found me. Wasn’t it?”

“Oh yes! He did: He carried you in your unconscious state, If you excuse me I will go dress."

 


	6. Seeing Is Believing

Shortly after Ichabod and Katrina returned from their walk, Ichabod was surprised to find Bailey was awake at the table in the kitchen. Well-he was partially awake. “Oh…hello Ichabod.” He said with a tired smile.

“Bailey you should be resting.” Ichabod scolded lightly.

“Come now I’m alright. Don’t worry…”

Ichabod rolls his eyes as a tired yawn escapes the other’s lips. “I…was told by the way that you were the one who carried me back.” Ichabod murmured.

Bailey blinked at first but nodded, smiling lightly. Although he was raging on the inside about that idiot Brom ‘Bones’: If Ichabod saw the look on Bailey’s face when he spotted Brom, oh Ichabod would’ve fainted yet again with fright. “Yes I have. I put you on Beatrice but had to chase after Gunpowder unfortunately-that’s when Katrina spotted me and helped me bring you in as well.”

“I see. Well, I do thank you for that…if you weren’t out there with me, who knows how long I would’ve been there.”

“Well I am your assistant after all am I not? And an assistant always protects his teacher.”

“I believe some men had tried to trick us. They dressed themselves appearing to have a ‘headless’ look about them.” Ichabod muttered.

Bailey pursed his lips in a thin line, leaning back some into his chair. When he told Katrina what had happened, she let out an exasperated sighing cursing Brom’s name under her breath before she began to explain to him as Bailey was now doing with Ichabod. “Brom Von Brunt: Katrina told me he enjoys tricking those he deems as ‘competition.”

Ichabod raised a puzzled eyebrow. “Competition?”

"Yes. He has been courting Katrina for a few years now. She returns his affections but Brom still wants to make sure no other man will steal her away from him. And at the moment, he’s waiting for our departure. He believes one of us will try and court her.”

“And why is that?”

Bailey tried not to grin yet faltered miserably as he spoke his next words. “She says we’re both handsome, capable and strong men with good personalities. Because we help people. That’s why he sees us as competition.”

He actually laughed a little when Katrina first told him such things. He explained to her he felt Ichabod was far more of those things…well especially in the looks department.

Although he did wonder…did she know? Of his secret ‘something’ for Ichabod? Hell he wasn’t even sure what it was he was feeling towards the other man.

“….Well,” Ichabod cleared his throat, ushering Bailey back to their room. “I believe you really should get some more rest now-and don’t argue this time.”

“Yes _mother.”_

Ichabod’s eye twitched at such remark, closing his door soon after.

**~////~**

Later in the evening Ichabod was in town and began to pass a building where he heard arguing. Doctor Lancaster, Reverend Steenwyck, Notary Hardenbrook and Magistrate Philips could all be seen having strong debates about something when the magistrate took what appeared to be a suitcase and took off.

Ichabod’s eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as he watched him hop onto a carriage beginning to lead it out of the town. "What are you running from, Magistrate Philipse?" He asked as he began to walk beside the man.

“Damn you Crane!” Phillips muttered under his breath.

"You remained to help us.” Ichabod said, referring to the fact the magistrate knew about the Widow Winship’s child.

"Yes. And it's put me in mortal dread." Phillip’s muttered.

“Of what?”

"Of powers against which there is no defense." He said then urged the donkey forward.

"How did you know the Widow Winship was expecting a child?" Ichabod asked.

“She told me.”

“Then Bailey and I deduced that you are the father.”

"I am not the father." Philips had told him with a shake of his head.

"Did she tell you the name of the father?" Ichabod asked.

"Yes. She did." He removed his wig and rubbed the top of his head. "She came to me for advice because I am the town magistrate. To protect the rights of her child. I was bound by the rights of my office to keep the secret, but-"

“So you believe the father killed her.”

“The Horseman killed her!” The magistrate argued.

"How many times do I have to tell you, there is no Horsemen?” Ichabod continued to insist. Lightning illuminated the small hollow and thunder growled above. "There never was a Horseman there never will be a Horseman!" It was then that Ichabod noticed the magistrate was clutching a necklace of sorts in his hand, resembling an Egyptian ankh. “What is that?”

"You a magistrate and your head is full of such nonsense! Now tell me the name of the-" Ichabod was interrupted by another loud crack of thunder. Whipping his head around he could see a herd of sheep fleeing away from the entrance to the Western Woods. Was that a horse’s whiny he heard again? It certainly was not from Gunpowder for the cowardly horse ran off yet again.

A scarecrow could be seen shivering in the wind, seeming to point at the forest.

Another flash of lightning illuminated a dark figure.

“Oh my god!” The magistrate called out. Ichabod spun to face the forest entrance and his eyes were wide seeing a headless rider seeming to have flown past him on his horse. He galloped at full speed towards the trying to flee Phillips, whipping out his sword.

The last thing poor Phillips had seen was the most terrifying moment of his life. The horseman raised his sword high into the air, his black as night horse rearing back. The sounds of metal meeting flesh could be heard. Ichabod collapsed onto the ground at the scene, watching as Phillips’s corpse fell before the horseman whom raised his sword in victory.

To Ichabod's terror, the Horseman raised his sword once more and started to make his way towards him. Dark eyes widened as he tried to spider crawl away. The horseman was now only a mere few feet away, charging. His sword raised once more. Ichabod squeezed his eyes shut: Picturing a grinning Bailey thinking that this would be the last he’d ever see of the other male again.

His eyes rolled up to the back of his head.

He promptly fainted.

**~////~**

Young Masbeth was seen outside of Ichabod and Bailey’s room inside the Van Tassel Manor somewhere in the early morning hours. Baltus, Katrina and Mary quickly made their way through, with Baltus rapping on the door.

"Constable Crane? Constable Crane? Young Bailey?” Baltus asked. He looked over at his wife, daughter and the young Masbeth. “Have they not come out at all?” They all worriedly shake their heads. Baltus had a look of worry composed over his face, eventually pushing the door open just to make sure.

They were all surprised to see Ichabod cowering against the wall with Bailey trying to coax him to relax.

"It was a Headless Horseman."

“You mustn’t excite yourself-.” Baltus tried.

"But it was a Headless Horseman!" Ichabod all but cried.

“That’s why we were sent here in the first place.” Bailey muttered to him. Katrina looked between shocked and confused while young Masbeth was deathly worried.

"NO, you must believe me!" He insisted like a stubborn child. “It was a horseman…a dead one. Headless.” Ichabod stated, still clutching Bailey’s hand in an almost death grip yet the other doesn’t pull away. He could only imagine what terror Ichabod experienced last night.

"I know, I know." Baltus said.

"You don't know because you were not there! It's all true!" Ichabod said in a moment of panic.

"Of course it is. I told you. Everyone told you."

"I… saw him." Ichabod said quietly. He smiled faintly before his eyes closed…and he passes out once more. Katrina and young Masbeth made a move to rush towards him but Bailey sighs softly, giving a wave of his hand.

“No don’t worry. He’s alright…happens all the time.” He explained.

"I guess it's back to the city then." Masbeth murmured with a tinge of worry in his voice.

**~////~**

Ichabod woke yet again with a start as he just had another dream of his mother like the last time. It was later in the evening as a gray beam of light filters through the window. Downstairs, Baltus, Bailey, young Masbeth, Katrina, Lancaster, Steenwyck, Hardenbrook and Lady Van Tassel were in the parlor.

"This time, I will go to New York myself! I won't be fopped off by an amateur deducer!" Baltus exclaimed.

“Now see here Mr. Van Tassel!” Bailey dared to argue back. “Ichabod and I just have a different way of solving things. Constable Crane’s methods aren’t like most.”

"This time it's a Magistrate that's dead-"

“Gentlemen!” Ichabod called down suddenly catching their attention, seeing him stand atop of the staircase. “I’m going to need able men to accompany me and Bailey to the Western Woods.”

Bailey stared in slight shock up at him. He was so sure that today was going to be the day they left this town. Relieved that Ichabod seemed to be trying to overcome his fears. "I have faced my fears and emerged determined to find the Horseman's grave. In short, to pit myself against a murdering ghost."

Lady Van Tassel worriedly put her arms around Katrina. Ichabod smiled a bit more and crossed his arms while Bailey looked at them with a faint grin of his own. “Well: You heard the man. Who’s with us?”

“….Me?” Masbeth piped up.


	7. Tree of The Dead

“The Van Garret’s, your father, the Widow Winship and now Magistrate Phillips,” Ichabod began as the trio made their way into the woods. _“Something_ must connect them.”

“But the question is what?” Bailey nodded, turning to look at young Masbeth. “Did your father have any relations with the Van Garret’s at all?”

“He worked for them. We lived in the coach house…” He flushed when Ichabod and Bailey stopped to stare at him. “It was nothing! But there was something that happened before the murder. An argument between father and son.”

"A fight… between father and son… Then the elder Van Garrett sent for his servant, Masbeth…" Ichabod said as he tried to think as to what the argument could have been about. It was then when Bailey stopped his horse for a moment when he realized how eerily quiet the woods were.

No owls.

No other birds.

Nothing.

“…Do you guys here that?”

Ichabod looked around. “I hear nothing.”

"Nor I. No birds… no crickets… it’s all gone silent…" Young Masbeth said. Ichabod shared a worried look with Bailey whom swallowed nervously. This did not appeal to them in the slightest. Naturally, a forest such as this would be filled with many animals roaming about. There wasn’t even a breath of wind it seemed.

“Quicken pace.” Ichabod told them, clutching the reigns of Gunpowder.

At some point they heard that of a woman humming. The three males looked at one another, then around trying to pin point the source of the sound. Where it was coming from. They finally discovered the source of it, stopping at what looked to be a cave entrance of sorts. Ichabod kept Bailey at his side, taking out his pistol as they crept closer inside with Bailey pushing Masbeth behind him.

A slouched figure could be seen in the room. Its hair was long and gray, concealing their face entirely.

Throughout the room many candles were lit and spider webs hung eerily from the ceiling. Bailey didn’t dare look up. "Pardon our intrusion,” Ichabod said pointing his pistol in a timid manor. “But…we think you can help us.”

"You're from the Hollow." The female voice said.

"Yes." Ichabod said as they all inched closer. "Now… I shall like to say that I make no assumptions of your… occupation. No… your ways, witch- which! Which, which… which are nothing to me… whatever you are. Each to his own." Ichabod flustered, standing now just inches away from the chair. The cloak the woman wore seemed to be transparent. Her back was still turned while she worked on…whatever it was she was concocting.

"O-oh…" Ichabod muttered, seeing her cut up the end of a cardinal’s foot. Bailey swallowed again, standing just a bit closer to Ichabod.

"D-do you know of the Horseman, Ma'am?" Young Masbeth asked timidly. "The Hessian?" The woman made a slicing gesture of her throat with her index finger. Bailey grimaced. "Th-that'll be him, Ma'am." Masbeth nodded.

Suddenly, the woman reaches out and puts her hand on either Ichabod’s or Bailey’s shoulders. “You two, come with me.” She says in a hushed tone. Bailey opened his mouth in a silent scream, biting the inside of his cheek hard. "Go out child!" She said to young Masbeth, leading the other two away. "Stay away. No matter what you hear stay away." She called. Young Masbeth quickly ran out, shutting the door.

Bailey was shaken with fear at this point. Not caring at all if it was considered ‘unmanly’ by some to hold onto Ichabod’s arm. You probably would do the very same would you not? _A witch…w-we’re dealing with a REAL witch here_ he thinks in shock watching as she prepares herself.

"Wh-what might he hear that he must stay away from?" Ichabod finally spoke up. Candles were lit about on the table he noticed, as they watch the Western Witch shackle herself so she wouldn’t lunge herself at Ichabod or Bailey when ‘He’ appeared.

"He rides. To the Hollow and back. I hear him. I smell the blood on him."

“D-Do you?” Ichabod asked. Bailey inched closer to him if it were possible. “Well…W-We’re here to find him and…make him stop.”

Bailey looks on when she takes out a wicker basket, setting it down after chopping a bat’s wing off. He fights his hardest not to gag. "You seek knowledge of the Netherworld? I can show you!" She says. The Western Witch stabbed the knife into the table and squeezed the blood out of the bat's body onto the mixture on the table before her. Purple smoke drifted upwards. She tossed the body into a pool of water.

“W-What are you doing?” Bailey asked.

"Don't move or speak. When the other comes, I shall hold him." The Western Witch insisted.

“Other?” Ichabod questioned.

“Silence! He comes!” She breathes deep a few times.

Then silence. The Western Witch had grown quite for a while. Ichabod and Bailey exchange nervous glances. “Well…go on. See if she’s alright.” Ichabod insisted.

“Me? Why do I have to do it?”

“Because you’re my side-kick.”

Bailey grumbled something under his breath, clearing his throat as he took a deep breath leaning in close. “M-Madam? ….Ma’am?”

With a loud growl the woman suddenly lifted her head: Eyes and tongue literally popping out. Poor Bailey almost fell backwards out of fright at the sight before them. The Witch lunged at them and managed to knock Ichabod's chair back, Bailey was half knocked down beside Ichabod.

"You seek the warrior bathed in blood! The Headless Horseman!" She screeched in a double toned voice. “Follow the Indian trail to where the sun dies! Follow it to the Tree of the Dead! Climb down to the Horseman's resting place!"

With that, the woman collapsed atop of Ichabod. Bailey carefully pushed her off and helps him back up on his feet.

They wasted no time getting out.

“We’re leaving!” Bailey insisted, urging Masbeth to follow quickly.

“What happened?”

"We are leaving, now!" Ichabod said as they swiftly get on their horses. Masbeth quickly follows suit.

When they trotted down the woods Ichabod repeated one of the witch’s lines. "Follow the Indian trail to the Tree of the Dead." Ichabod said.

“How will we find it?” Masbeth asked.

"Without difficulty I'd rather favor…" Ichabod muttered.

“Climb down into the Horsemen’s resting place…” Bailey murmured.

“His camp?”

“His grave.”

After a few moments of riding in silence, Ichabod stopped when he heard something, spotting a figure in the distance. He shakily takes out his pistol. “H-Halt! And turn: I have a pistol aimed.” He called out.

Katrina raised an eyebrow after she drops her hood, turning to face them.

“Katrina!” He exclaimed, lowering his weapon. He was not sure whether to be glad or worried she was there. “I could have killed you. Why did you come?” He asked, walking the short incline to get to her.

“Because no one else would go with you!”

“Well. Now I am twice the man.” She smiled softly as she takes his hand. “It must be your white magic…” The girl leaned in, as if she were about to kiss him. He does so in return.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting,” Bailey’s voice sounded, frowning thoughtfully as he watched the two before quickly shaking his head to snap out of it. “But I think you should take a look at this.” He insisted, leading them towards the location.

For some unknown reason he could not pin point, Bailey could feel a heavy pain deep within his heart. Many questions floating around in his mind. Was Ichabod in love with Katrina? Had he grown to fancy her? She was a beautiful woman there were no doubts of that. She probably had all the men in the hollow chasing after her.

But…she was courted by Brom.

There’s no way she could love Ichabod. Why the hell did he care so damn much anyway? It’s not like Ichabod felt anything for-.

He was cut off in his rambling thoughts when his eyes travel up to the large tree before them. Its branches twisted and curved in odd directions, not what you’d typically see from a tree. "The Tree of the Dead." Young Masbeth said.

Ichabod edged closer as he noticed something dripping from the trunk. It didn’t appear to look like sap. When he pulled his hand back and looked at his fingers, he gagged. A crimson red stained his fingers. “Blood…” he spoke out in a strangled manner. Young Masbeth was disturbed, Katrina repulsed and yet Bailey looked like an interesting combination of intrigue and repulsion.

"S-stay where you are." Ichabod said in shaken tone, gesturing them to stay far away. Bailey takes one step forward. Watching as Ichabod gave the tree some good whacks with a hatchet, flinching when blood came fourth splashing on Ichabod’s face in tiny droplets at first. But the more he hacked the more blood was about.

With each whack more and more blood continued coming fourth. Ichabod was beginning to look how he had after they ‘operated’ on the Widow. Blood on his face and clothing. He tears off the root of the tree next, tossing it behind his shoulder where it barely hits Bailey. He danced out of the way in time fortunately.

“What is it?” Young Masbeth asked, creeping behind Bailey.

"Just… stay where you are." Ichabod repeated and looked back at them. A few more drops of blood flew out, some splashing on Bailey’s face and lips. Ichabod pulled another piece of tree away.

Once it was removed they all saw what was inside the tree. The bloodied heads of the Horsemen’s victims…lurching forward as if trying to break free. Bailey covered his mouth, feeling just an awful, sick emotion pooling in his stomach. Katrina was comforting an equally frightened Masbeth, her blue eyes wide with terror yet like Bailey she could not look away.

"This tree is the gateway…the gateway between worlds!" Ichabod had said, after removing the white cloth he put over his mouth to block out the rotted stench. Climbing up the tree, running up the tangled mess of roots to the Horsemen’s resting place just as the Western Witch said. "This ground has been disturbed. The soil is loose!" He ran forward and gripped the tree. "Bring the shovel!"

Bailey did just that, running for Gunpowder and carried with him back the shovel handing it to Ichabod. Katrina and Masbeth shortly follow after, watching as Ichabod began digging through the Horsemen’s burying ground.

It was nightfall by the time he and Bailey finished digging. Still not a sound was heard throughout the woods. No nocturnal animals were out and about. The only thing that remained of the Hessian were his bones. Yet his head was gone. Taken.

"The skull is gone. Taken. That is why the Horseman returns from the grave. To take heads, till his own is restored to him." Ichabod explained.

Lightning flashes, illuminating the dark and dense wood. Bailey could see the heads start to shake and rattle. “Ichabod?” He and Katrina ask in unison. Ichabod saw roots grip the bones of the Hessian and ran down to the trunk of the tree. A horse’s hoof soon emerged, then a black horse’s large head soon after.

The Hessian had returned once again. His black steed rears back, his sword held high in the air. Young Masbeth, Bailey and Katrina stare in shock as they witness the Horsemen for the first time. The Horseman spun his sword and took off into the woods.

They made no haste racing back to the hollow. The Horsemen needed to be stopped.


	8. Brom

"Let's split up. Glen." Brom spoke to one of his friends, they were near the edge of the woods. “Theodore.” They were dressed in thick coat layers to block the wind and rifles over their shoulders, attempting to keep a look out for the Horsemen.

Back at the Killian household, young Thomas wandered into his room lighting three candles with a metal one in the middle. Once turned on, it illuminated the room with shadows of frightened cats, witches and ghouls swirling around.

"Don't pick your teeth! You'll teach Thomas bad habits!" Mrs. Killian chastised her husband for picking at something stuck in his teeth.

The man grinned cheekily pulling her onto his lap by her waist. "I am a bad habit!" He teased. “And there’s nothing to it.”

"Oh isn't there?" She teased and kissed him for a moment.

The man smiles with a chuckle allowing her to go check on their son. Once she entered, she smiled softly seeing the boy stare in awe at his mechanical candle watching the shapes dance along the walls before kissing him on the cheek. "Come on. Let’s get ready for bed." She said to him.

“Yes.” He says with a small smile.

The man sat at the table and noticed that it was beginning to shake. He narrowed his eyes in a confused manor as lightning suddenly flashed. The flames in the fireplace behind him suddenly erupted and roared. He jumped and stared at the flames in shock.

The family’s door was soon kicked open by such force by the Headless Horsemen, knocking it straight off its hinges. “Beth run!” Mr. Killian shouted to his wife, making an attempt to block the Horsemen’s attacks.

The woman lifted her son, Thomas, and carried him to the corner of his room. She kicked back a blanket and opened up a hatch in the floor.

“Get inside and stay quiet!” She whispered to her child. Thomas does as his mother commands, covering his eyes when she closes the secret door.

Quiet.

Everything was far too quiet for her liking. She hadn’t heard her husband for quite some time…only the sound of boots clinking along the floorboards.

Heading right for her son’s bedroom.

The Horseman stopped in the doorway, gripping an axe in one hand and her husband's severed head in the other. He made his way across the room, over the spot where Thomas cowered beneath the floorboards and over towards the woman.

She shuts her eyes as the horsemen raises his axe. Expecting what is to come.

A choked sound escaped her lips that sounded like a mid-scream. There was a thud as her head rolled across the floor.

Thomas looked up and saw his mother's eyes peering at him through a crack in the floorboards. He scrambled away from the sight. The Horseman walked across the room again, the spurs of his armored boots clink with each step he made. After snatching the woman’s head however, the horsemen swiftly turns around.

He had sensed something.

A heartbeat.

There was one another victim in the room…

He spun around he swiftly walked to a certain spot in the floor, before sending his axe into the floorboards right into the spot just in front of Thomas. He kept hacking at the floorboards till there was a decent sized hole in the floor.

Oh he was a cruel man indeed. Man, woman or child he did not care what you were. Your head would be his.

**~////~**

Brom was the one outside whom heard Thomas’s shrill scream. He turns towards the sound, spurring his horse into the action.

The Horseman exited the house, lightning flashing as he put his final head in his bag closing the drawstring shut. He got on his horse and began to ride off, unaware of the arriving Brom. Brom raises his rifle, aimed and fired. The bullet hit the Horseman and he fell to the ground and didn't move.

A look of satisfaction crossed over Brom’s face, thinking he had finished the monster off. Unfortunately he was mistaken.

Ichabod and Bailey arrive shortly after with Gunpowder and Beatrice, looking on as they see Brom actually attempting to fight the Hessian. They froze seeing Brom eye two curved blades stuck in the hay.

“Brom wait! He’s not the one you’re after.” Bailey tried to reason only to be shrugged off.

"I'll get him!" He said and ran after him. Ichabod and Bailey stare for a moment, watching Brom duel with the Horsemen. The Horseman was using his sword and an axe, and Brom was using two simple scythes. Ichabod grabs another scythe while Bailey finds another axe laying about.

Bailey, with all the strength he could muster slams the axe within the Horsemen’s back. He’s shocked for a moment when the Hessian seemed to stumble as Ichabod grabs him and Brom by the cuffs of their shirts.

“We cannot win this!” Ichabod declares.

Ichabod’s cuffs were stained with blood and Brom was running with a limp by the time they reached the bridge. Clunking footsteps could be heard. They freeze. _How…Can we kill something that’s already dead to begin with?_ Bailey thinks with a swallow. They turned but saw no one crossing through the bridge.

The trio glanced up.

The Horseman leapt from the top of the covered bridge and landed behind them. Bailey let out a gasp as the Hessian knocks the wind out of him with his foot, knocking him away from Ichabod whom he pierced just above his heart.

Bailey does not know what happens next. The last thing he does see however, is Ichabod bleeding from his chest and Brom dueling once more with the Horsemen.

**~////~**

Half an hour later. Ichabod and Bailey were both being tended to by Dr. Lancaster. Katrina placed a wet cloth on Bailey’s forehead, rubbing it softly across to decrease the small fever he developed.

"Remarkable…" Doctor Lancaster said as he looked over Ichabod’s wound. "A wound like this should have killed him! But there is no need for stitching and there was barely any blood loss." Ichabod suddenly shoots up, his face pale and sweaty startling them all greatly. “You must be still: A fever is upon you and your assistant, constable.” The doctor warned him.

“Bailey…” Ichabod choked out, chest heaving up and down. “Bailey is…He’s alright then?”

“Look beside you.”

Ichabod could feel his heart sooth at the sight of his companion. He looks up at Katrina and sees her eyes are red and puffy, having cried her heart out over Brom’s death. “Katrina: We…We tried to stop him but Brom-.” Bailey begins weakly but the girl shushes him gently.

"Shh… Drink this down. It will make you sleep." Katrina pushes a cup slowly to his lips, giving Ichabod the same soon after.

“The Horsemen was not sent to kill Brom nor us. Had Brom not attacked him-" Ichabod began.

“Later. Rest now.” Baltus said.

"I have discovered something!" Ichabod rushed, noting Bailey, Katrina, Baltus and Mary looking at him. "The Horseman does not kill at random. The victims are chosen by someone who controls him. By the very person who took his skull. Someone who knew where to dig. Someone of flesh and blood. As I've always said."

"These are ravings!" Baltus said gently.

“Here. Drink.” Katrina insisted. Once he had, his head fell back onto his pillow and his eyes closed.

Lady Van Tassel stared at the sickly Ichabod and his companion.

_In his sleep Ichabod saw that white room again with the white pews, red carpet and red door. He as a child cowered against one of the pews as he saw his father exit the room that the red door led to. His father wore a black cloak, and he had a smirk painted on his face. As he passed Ichabod, Ichabod noticed that from behind his father appeared headless due to the height of the collar on his cloak._

_As his father left the white room, Ichabod looked to the door and heard his mother softly calling for him. He walked to the door and it opened, revealing a dark stone room filled with horrid torture devices, and at the very back he saw an iron maiden. He walked inside and walked toward the iron maiden, passing a chair, which had sharp spikes on the handles of it. He stopped in front of said chair when he heard his mother call him again. It sounded like it was coming from the iron maiden._

_He looked up and saw the two beautiful brown eyes he knew so well peering out at him from an open slat at the top of the iron maiden. He jumped back in surprise as he saw the blood on the skin of her nose that was visible. He fell against the chair and braced his hands against the spikes. The spikes dug deeply into his skin and bright red blood poured down his pale hands. He looked back to the iron maiden as it slowly creaked open._

_A wave of blood splashed out along with his mother’s body…_

Ichabod soon wakes up, straight into Bailey’s arms as the other shushed him in a gentle manner. “It’s alright,” Bailey murmured, his chin resting on Ichabod’s shoulder. “You were just dreaming constable.”

"I was…" He said breathlessly. "Things I had forgotten…" He looked at his hands and the scars on the palms of his hands were bloody. "And would not like to remember…"

He figured it was time to finally tell Bailey…of his mother. And how he received the holes in his hands. "My mother was an innocent… a child of nature. Condemned. Murdered. By my father."

“By your-?”

“Yes. Murdered to save her soul. By a Bible-black tyrant behind a mask of righteousness. I was seven when I lost my faith."

“And…now you believe in-?”

"Sense and reason. Cause and consequence. I should not have come to this place. My rational mind has been played with by ideas of the spirit world." Ichabod said quietly.

“I don’t understand…why would he do such thing?” Bailey whispered, not believing Ichabod kept all this from him. He could only imagine the horrificness of the act that had taken place during Ichabod’s childhood.

“….You did not see Brom correct?”

Bailey shook his head. “No…I passed out when he was dueling the Hessian. I don’t remember anything after that.”

_Good. At least he did not see that gruesome sight_

“May I show you something?” Ichabod had asked. Bailey looked and nodded. "On one side is an image of a cardinal in flight. On the other is an empty cage. Now watch." He smiles at him as he begins spinning the threads in his fingers.

The image soon becomes one.

Bailey laughs a little at the sight of it. “How fascinating. That’s optical illusions am I correct?”

“That it is. When two images become one in spinning: Always knew you were a smart lad since you first became my assistant. I used to believe it was magic when I was young.”

“Well I could see where others would think it would be. I thank you for showing me that.”

“It was my pleasure.”

There was only a dim candle lit in the room, casting a soft glow around them. Bailey’s face flush as he notices how close they were, scooting over only to be surprised at what Ichabod says next. “Wait: I…Don’t mind that you’re close to me.”

Bailey blinked curiously, tilting his head to the side. “Y-You don’t?”

Ichabod shakes his head.

For the remainder of the night, they laid beside one another in each other’s company. And if there was something Ichabod remembered that night it was that the memories had not returned.


	9. Angry Wound

The sky was cloudy and overcast as per usual in the hollow. After some long hours, Ichabod and Bailey had finished their writings of long information: The sheets of paper were scattered about beneath them with the Van Garret’s and Van Tassel’s names. "Doctor Lancaster," Ichabod said slamming the paper down onto a trunk. "Reverend Steenwyck," he snatched the Reverend’s paper and placed it with Lancaster’s.

"And Magistrate Philipse." He put his paper down then picked it up again. Who tried to cut and run. And lost his head." He tossed the paper over his shoulder.

Bailey crossed his arms over his chest, gazing out the window. “The men were all petrified and arguing just before Magistrate Phillips was murdered. Surely there’s a conspiracy present.” He trailed off.

"The Doctor… The Reverend." Ichabod said straightening up to look at the book. "The Notary… The Magistrate." He began to pace. "What is the secret that connects them?" He walked back to his book and wrote ‘secrets’ above the word ‘conspiracy’. "Magistrate Philipse knew that there were five bodies to four graves." He wrote '5 to 4'.

“According to you he knew the widow was pregnant and refused to say the father’s name right?” Bailey chimed in. He was gradually putting two and two together.

Ichabod nodded beginning to pace again. "What does this point to?" He went back to the book and wrote 'Points to'. "We must proceed by a process of elimination. I shall make a list of every man and woman in Sleepy Hollow, starting with their chief citizen, Baltus Van Tassel."

He jotted the name down smiling at young Masbeth. Bailey grinned. “I think we’re finally getting close.”

"Yes. I suppose Baltus is the chief citizen, now that old Van Garrett is dead." Young Masbeth said.

"Yes. The Van Garrett's. I had almost forgotten them." Ichabod said while going into thought.

Bailey slipped into thought once again, remembering the Bible Reverend Steenwyck had given them the night of their first arrival. He quickly went over and opened it to the first page revealing a family tree of the Van Garret’s and Van Tassels. Ichabod’s eyes widened, slamming the book startling young Masbeth.

"Come with me." Ichabod said hiding a few of the papers in a trunk then grabbed his coat.

“Where are we going?” Young Masbeth asked.

“Notary Hardenbrook’s.”

“You thought the same as I didn’t you?” Bailey questioned.

“I believe I have.”

**~////~**

Every in the town you found people rushing about trying to pack and escape before the Hessian returned once again. Others however stayed behind of course, arming themselves with rifles (which still did not make a lick of sense to Bailey seeing as the man was already dead). It wasn’t much longer before the trio arrived at Notary Hardenbrook’s. It was a mess of papers, documents many other things littered about when young Masbeth opened the door.

“Hopeless.” Ichabod said, as they began looking through some things. As he took a look into one of the filing cabinets, young Masbeth noticed something familiar to him.

"My father’s satchel." He said walking over to it. Ichabod and Bailey look at him. "What's it doing here?" Young Masbeth took his father's satchel and held it close. Ichabod turned around and opened the cabinet only to find Notary Hardenbrook standing in it. He let out a gasp.

Bailey clutched his chest in surprise. “Good lord man! What are you doing in there?”

"Leave me alone!" Notary Harden brook insisted, making his way out of the cabinet sitting in his chair.

"Only once you show us the Last Will and Testament of old man Van Garrett!" Ichabod said strongly as Young Masbeth and Bailey watched on.

"The Will leaves everything to his son." Notary Hardenbrook said.

“Who happened to have died with him,” Bailey chimed in smartly. “So thus the estate passes on to the next of kin.”

"Naturally." Notary Hardenbrook said. Young Masbeth pulled something out of his father’s satchel, a white envelope with a waxed seal on it.

“Sir.” He said, holding it up for better view.

Notary Hardenbrook’s eyes widened. “I am a dead man!” He whispered with anxiousness. Ichabod took it and looked down at the seal of red wax.

“Van Garret’s seal. Broken!” He said, Bailey noting that his voice went just an octave higher than usual. "It appears old Van Garrett made another will before he died. Naming… Widow Winship?" He said in a confused manor.

“And look Ichabod,” Bailey said handing him another envelope after thanking young Masbeth for handing it to him. “We’ve here a marriage certificate.”

"Uh huh!" Ichabod said taking it. Ah. He saw the names on it. Peter Van Garrett and Emily Winship. "So Van Garrett secretly married Winship and left everything to her and her unborn child. So the new will stood between the fortune and the person who would have inherited everything."

"It's all true!" He said. "But we were all dragged into it against our will!"

“Your will?” Ichabod asked confused.

“But that means-.” Masbeth began.

"Of course… The four town elders… Now I see what parts you had to play. Reverend Steenwyck knew the secret because he performed the marriage. Doctor Lancaster attended the pregnant woman,” Ichabod began.

“And Magistrate Phillips gave protection of the law. Notary hid the documents for Van Garret which the old man had entrusted his servant with. The four conspirators pulled into the plot!" Ichabod and Bailey spoke the last in unison, finally piecing it all together.

"We didn't know it was a murdering plot!" Notary cried out.

"But I am not finished, sir!" Ichabod said. "First, the Van Garrett's, father and son, are slain by a Headless Horseman brought back from the grave to chop head. Now up pops a widow with a claim on a fortune." Ichabod looked back at young Masbeth. “Off with her head.” The young man’s eyes went wide as he listened to them carry on next.

“But as we all know murder begets murder,” Bailey continued. “Jonathan Masbeth: The servant. And on the very night the father and son held a heated argument.” He tapped on his signature with his index finger. “He was summoned as a witness. Here’s his signature.” He frowned thoughtfully at the young man.

"I'm afraid it was his death warrant, Young Masbeth. The Horseman came for him. Came for him at the bidding of someone who had power over him. Someone who dug into the Earth in the Western Woods and stole his skull. The missing head, which must be returned to the Horseman before he can return to Hell. Someone who stood to gain or lose a fortune!"

Ichabod spoke in a fairly loud tone. Notary Hardenbrook covers his head as the two continued on. “None other than the Van Garret’s next of kin…Baltus Van Tassel!”

**~////~**

Ichabod, Bailey and Young Masbeth make a swift return back to the Van Tassel manor. As they entered the now paper free room, they were surprised to find Katrina leaning over Ichabod’s desk.

“Katrina!” Ichabod said with surprise. She turned to look at them. “What are you doing in our room?”

"Because it is yours." She replied with a smile. Ichabod glanced around. She stood and looked at him, smile gone. "Was it wicked of me?"

“No….No not at all.” Ichabod glanced down to make sure Bailey still gripped the envelopes in his hands.

"I missed you. Where did you go?" She asked, an emotionless look across her face.

Bailey cleared his throat. “We were speaking with Notary…”

"And did you learn anything of interest?" Katrina asked.

The trio of males spared a look with one another. “Perhaps…” Ichabod said.

“My father.”

“You’re father?” Bailey asked quietly.

"Yes. My father thinks you should return to New York." Katrina said.

"Really? Why is that?" Ichabod asked as he walked over to his desk.

"I don't know. Perhaps he looked in your ledger and didn't like what he saw." They both looked down to the book he had been writing in earlier. He shut the book. "What have you there?" She asked eyeing the papers in Bailey’s hand.

“…Evidence.”

“I will leave you to your thoughts.” She walks briskly out of the room, giving a brief look to young Masbeth and a particularly longer one to Bailey who tried not to flinch under her stare. He hated it when people did such thing.

"Kill it! Kill it! No! Stun it!" Ichabod states suddenly. Bailey shifted his eyes over and he sighed wearily, seeing the constable up on his desk at the sight of a small black spider no more the size of a pea.

“For man’s sake Ichabod: It’s only a spider.”

While the two bicker quietly about the situation, Young Masbeth knelt down to look under their bed. He noticed a light, pinkish hue on the wooden floor. Ichabod had moved to stand on another chair by the corner of a wall by the foot of his bed. “There’s something under here.” He said.

“What is it?” Ichabod asked, eyes wide with worry.

"Help me move the bed." Young Masbeth said, gripping the corner of the bed.

“No, no. I mustn’t.”

Bailey shot Ichabod a deadpanned expression, shaking his head in disbelief. The man was dealing with a murderous/headless ghost and he was STILL afraid of insects? Baffling. Truly baffling. The spider was now crawling across the floor after Bailey and Masbeth move the bed, revealing a strange pink shape on the floor. A pink chalk design of a star in a circle with an eye in the center and many other small designs.

Bailey swallowed nervously. Recognizing that design from an old book on the occult he used to own. “The Evil Eye…” he whispered.

"It is someone casting spells against you." Young Masbeth told Ichabod.

“The Evil Eye?” Ichabod questioned.

**~////~**

Young Masbeth had fallen asleep in the arm chair when night made its decent upon them. Bailey was reading in silence whereas Ichabod was working on writing something in his book. They soon hear the door close below them. Curious, Bailey shares a look with Ichabod before the two creep down into the main room seeing a cloaked figure slip out into the night.

Their hood was pulled all the way up, obvious for concealment. Whomever it was did not want to be caught out and about.

Pants and gasps echo in their ears. The two raised a brow at one another, peering from behind a tree. It’s then that they see a man and a woman: The man is hovering above, kissing down her neck. Bailey almost gasps in surprise when he sees whom the woman actually is only to have Ichabod quickly cover his mouth keeping them both quiet.

Lady Van Tassel was calmly laying on a blanket on the ground. She looked down at the man and stretched her arm out. She grabbed a knife and held it above the man's back. Yet before either could call out to him, she takes the knife, drags it across her hand making a deep cut running her bloodied hand down his shoulders.

Enough was enough.

Ichabod and Bailey had ridden Gunpowder and Beatrice to Katrina’s old house ruins where they found her sitting by a fire. When they got back to the mansion the letters/evidence had vanished. He knew it had to be only her who could have done so. "Katrina. You took the evidence and burned it."

"So that you man not have it to accuse my father." She spat. Evident hatred upon her voice.

“We’re not accusing anyone,” Bailey tried to reason. “But…if there’s guilt, we cannot alter such thing.”

“And no spell of yours can prevent it either,” Ichabod stated, ignoring the burning look in her eyes. "Your father has the motives. It is he who profits from the murders."

“Neither of you know him. If you did, you would not have such harsh thoughts of him.”

"I am opinioned through reason! Why else would his four friends conspire to conceal-"

Katrina tossed him a rather teasing smirk. "You're the Constable. Not I. So find a different chain of reasoning and let me be." She said looking away from them.

“We cannot do that, Katrina. And it makes our hearts slightly sick to say so.”

"I believe you have no heart. I had the mind once to give you mine." Katrina said.

"I believed that you had loved me the day you had followed me into the Western Woods. But you only have feelings and thoughts for Brom. And I realize that now. But you still braved the peril to try to trick me." Ichabod said turning to face her.

"What peril was there for me if it was my own father who controlled the Headless Horsemen.” She said, shoving past Bailey climbing up on her horse. With that, she turns her head to glare at the males leaving them at her old family’s ruins. “Goodbye Constable Crane, Assistant Rhodes; I curse the day you came to Sleepy Hollow!”

**~////~**

"She will not see you." Lady Van Tassel said to Ichabod as she put a ladle into a pot that hung over the fire in the kitchen.

“Did…she say anything?” Ichabod asked in a montone.

"Only that you would not come down." She replied as she winced and moved the heavy pot-like ladle to the table.

“I see.”

"Constable. You have not asked me how I hurt my hand since yesterday." Lady Van Tassel said. Ichabod froze when she uttered those words. Although it was sunny and bright out today, he had no knowledge of how long that will last. “Which would have been polite.” She said, standing behind him. “In fact…I paid a visit to your assistant. He to held the same reaction as you when I asked him of my hand.” She held out her hand for him to see the rather enflamed cut.

Ichabod cringed at the memory of her and the other man….in the woods.

“I know you and young Bailey saw me…” she whispered.

“Pardon?” Ichabod asked, trying to pull off the innocent act but she saw right through him.

"I know you followed me last night. And you must promise me you will not tell my husband what you saw." Ichabod refused to look at her. PROMISE me." She said making him jump.

He didn’t have time to respond for the door slams open, revealing a deeply panicked Baltus making his way into the kitchen. "The town is terrified! Horror! Tragedy! Notary Hardenbrook was found dead!" Baltus exclaimed.

"What?" Gasped Lady Van Tassel, placing a hand on her chest. "That harmless old man?"

"He hanged himself in the middle of the night!" Baltus said, fixing himself a glass of water to ease his nerves.

“Hanged himself?” Ichabod question, looking up when he saw Bailey descend from the stairs. His eyes widen at the news he just heard, face had also grown paler than usual.

"Reverend Steenwyck has called a meeting in the church tonight. Every man, woman, and child is going to speak out against you." Baltus said looking at Ichabod. His eyes widened. "If you are wise you and your assistant will leave this place!"

“This is absurd!” Bailey finally speaks up, livid by hearing such a thing.

How could those ignorant towns’ people possibly blame Ichabod for all that’s happened? When they were sent there to help in the first place! Lady Van Tassel stuck out her hand to stroke her husband’s face. “My dear what happened?” He asked, taking hold of her hand with the enflamed scar.

"Oh! I was careless with a kitchen knife." Her tone was laced with that of a fake apology, giving Bailey a short glaring look daring him to say anything.

The young man does not.

“That wound looks angry.”

"I'll bind it later with some wild Arrow Root flowers." She said with a smile, watching as Ichabod pulls Bailey up the stairs with him. "I know where some grow."

**~////~**

Reverend Steenwyck, whom as always looked like a startled owl. The meeting bell still tolled as many townsfolk filed into the chapel talking anxiously amongst one another. Ichabod, Bailey and Young Masbath watched the scene from the corner of the bridge.

A flash of lightning illuminated the darkened town when Baltus ran up to Katrina. “Horseman! Katrina!” She spun around at the sight of him.

“Father?”

"Katrina! The Horseman, save me!" He jumped off his horse and ran to her. He took her by the shoulders. "He killed her! The Horseman killed your step-mother!"


	10. Bloody Chapel

Lightning flashes and thunder growls once more. The horseman gallops down the road heading straight for the church. Ichabod blanched making a mad dash for the church with Bailey and Masbeth not far behind. Two brave townsmen tried fending the monster off with their rifles, before taking their leave as well.

It was mad hysteria by the time the doors had been closed. People were panicked. Screaming and shouting while men readied their rifles. Katrina rushed forward to reach her father. Baltus had pushed his way the front of the church and Reverend Steenwyck grabbed him by the front of his jacket.

"YOU! You'll kill us all! YOU'RE the one the Horseman wants!" The Reverend hollered at him.

Nobody paid any heed to Katrina as the girl closes her eyes and begins drawing something on the floor.

Ichabod and Bailey looked out the window to see the Horseman only pacing back and forth on his horse. He couldn’t seem to enter the church. Even his ax disintegrated when he threw it the minute it touches the soil. “Holy grounds…that’s why he can’t proceed.” Bailey whispered. He was startled however when one townsman handed him a rifle. He blinked at first, but stood with them as they shattered the window pushing their guns through.

Although they knew that guns were futile, proud grins cross over his and Young Masbeth’s faces knowing they at least did something brave. "The Horseman cannot enter!" Ichabod called to them as they finally made it to the front of the church."The Horseman cannot enter here, he cannot cross the gate!" He tried again to stop them.

Back at the windows Young Masbeth was pouring more gunpowder into his rifle as did Bailey.

“He’s coming back!” Someone hollered as they break more windows. The horseman could be seen riding through the graveyard to get to the church.

"Too many have died already. It's time we must confess our sins." Doctor Lancaster said.

“What is it that you know?” Baltus asked, his hand holding the pistol beginning to shake.

"You're four friends played you false." Doctor Lancaster said. The Reverend grabs a cross as Lancaster turned to face him. "We were devilishly possessed by one who-" The poor man never gets the chance to finish. He feels a sharp pain before all goes dark around him, blood flowing from the wound and onto the holy building’s floors when he collapses.

Bailey’s eyes widen when he hears someone scream in terror, whipping his head around to find Dr. Lancaster dead on the floor. His jaw slacks open, nearly dropping his rifle at the sight of the blood pooling around the man’s body.

Outside the Headless Horseman grabbed a length of rope and yanked off a spike from the wooden fence. He puts them in one hand, effortlessly dodging more bullets.

“Back! Back!” Baltus cried out, backing up a few steps from the platform. “BACK!” Waving his pistol around like a mad man.

The Horseman tied the rope to the spike making a makeshift weapon.

"There is a conspiracy here!" He hollered, pointing his weapon at a somewhat quiet group of people. “And I will seek it out!” Katrina shoots a glare at Ichabod and Bailey. All they could do was watch on helplessly.

The sound of shattering glass was heard as the Horsemen’s makeshift weapon launched through the window. Striking Baltus right through his chest in front of all. Katrina screamed in terror at the sight of the blood, racing to help her father only to be held back by Ichabod and Bailey. Baltus groaned and gurgled as the Horseman yanked him out the window, dragging him across the yard.

Katrina ran towards the window with Ichabod and Bailey for they could only watch on with terror. Bailey squeezes his eyes shut as Baltus’s head gets stuck in between a fence. The sound of metal slicing skin echoes around. Katrina gasped, covering her mouth before she faints.

Ichabod's eyes widened as he looked at the pink chalk dust on her fingers. She had been holding a piece of pink chalk.

When Bailey finally turns his head away from the window, not bearing to see Baltus’s head carried off he lets out a quiet gasp at what he sees on the floor. In front of Young Masbeth was the same symbol that had been beneath Ichabod's bed.

**~/////~**

Ichabod watches Bailey as his assistant pack the rest of their belongings in Katrina’s room. There was a soft glow about her…she looked like an angel. Ichabod merely nodded, staring at the floor.

“Bailey…Are you packed?”

“Yes Ichabod.” Bailey murmured. But before they left, he whispers one final word to Katrina of good-bye following Ichabod out of the manor. They’re followed after by Young Masbeth.

"You think it was Katrina don't you?" Young Masbeth asked.

"That can never be proved." Ichabod said as he knelt down to rearrange something in his bag as Young Masbeth stopped at the railing. "But you cannot argue that it would make sense."

Young Masbeth looked down and said nothing at first. “It doesn’t mean you two have to leave.” He whispers quietly.

“We have good reason.” Ichabod said with a hurry.

"Then you are bewitched by reason!" Young Masbeth said, tears forming in the boys eyes.

"I am beaten down by it!" Ichabod’s voice sounded with a hard edge.

“Ichabod!”

Bailey hisses, nodding his head to the deeply troubled Young Masbeth. The boy wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Ichabod’s gaze softens just a bit, walking over to pat his shoulder. "It is a hard lesson to learn Young Masbeth. That villainy wears many masks. None so dangerous as the mask of virtue." He then hands their bags to the carriage driver.

Bailey blinks his eyes rapidly of his own tears that threaten to fall, yet he does whatever he can to hold him back as he makes his way over to the other. “….I know we’ve not known each other for long, Young Masbeth. But in my days of knowing you, you’ve grown to become like a little brother to me.” He says softly, giving the boy a kind smile.

His words were not false.

Before Bailey could even react, he almost doubled over when Young Masbeth nearly tackles him in a hug sobbing silently into his shirt that Bailey doesn’t mind tears staining it. Giving the boy one last pat on the head he finally makes his way to the carriage.

Once inside, Ichabod pulled out the optical illusion piece and looked at it in his hands. He began to roll the string between his fingers and watched the images become one.

Bailey has not said one word to him as they start going through the town.

As they started to proceed further, he watches as two men began to carry Lady Van Tassel's body into Doctor Lancaster's old office. Just then that’s when he thinks of something, taking out Katrina’s book quickly.

“Bailey….Look at this.” He whispers.

The other shifted his gaze from the window only due to the urgency of Ichabod’s voice. When he looked at the page a gasp escaped his lips. “Ichabod…That’s not the Evil Eye at all. I know this: A protection spell!”

“Katrina was not the one controlling the Horsemen,” Ichabod deduced finally. Even if she did not love him romantically she still protected them both. All this time. “Someone else had…”

Bailey leans out the window to call out the driver. “Oi! Turn this carriage around.”

“What?”

“Turn the coach around!”

**~////~**

Ichabod pushed open the doors of Lancaster’s old office after they were allowed entry. "Pardon the intrusion." He walked inside and found two coffins. Bailey tosses off one lid that contained Baltus Van Tassel’s body inside as Ichabod does the same with Lady Van Tassel. Ichabod takes the cut hand.

"No blood flow… no clotting… no healing…" He slowly put the hand down.

“When the cut was made she had to have been already dead.” Bailey muttered.

When realization hits them they race towards the carriage to find the driver had gone. Ichabod gets in the driver seat while Bailey climbs in the passenger, whipping the reigns. The horses lurch and they head back to the manor.

**~/////~**

Ichabod and Bailey rush towards the windmill Young Masbeth told them about before anything happened to Katrina. The lightning flashed making them more apprehensive.

"My sister and I remained in our refuge, seeing not a soul. Until, one day, whilst gathering wood, we crossed paths with the Hessian. I watched his death. From that moment I sold my soul to Satan. I would only do it if he could raise the Hessian from the grave to avenge me." Lady Van Tassel told the girl, staring into the fire as if the memory were only yesterday.

The Horseman, Ichabod and Bailey were almost to the windmill. They wanted to save her. The Horseman wanted to kill her.

“Avenge you?” Katrina asked.

"Against Van Garrett! The landlord who kicked us out and left us to starve. Whilst Baltus Van Tassel and his… simpering wife and girl child took our home. I swore to become mistress of all the land. The first part was the easiest." As Lady Van Tassel began to explain, Katrina saw Young Masbeth creeping in. "To enter the house as your sick mother's nurse and put her body into the grave! Then put my own in the marriage bed. Securing my legacy wasn't so easy

The widow had to go of course. And the servant Masbeth." Young Masbeth was silently watching and trying to find a weapon of some sort. "Then the other day that silly midwife, Killian, told me that the widow had told her a big secret! And she told it right in front of her husband! And that silly little goose she called a son. Just another job for the Horseman." She explained with a little cackle.

"But, lust delivered Reverend Steenwyck into my power,” Lady Van Tassel said. “Fear did the same for the Notary Hardenbrook and the drunken Philipse. And the silence I got from the Doctor was the fact I knew about his romance with the servant girl, Sarah."

"Yes. You have everything now." Katrina said.

"No! You do! Because of your father's Will! I get everything in the event of your death." Lady Van Tassel hissed. "Oh, and my sister. Sadly she passed away. Very recently." She said with a smirk.

“You killed your own sister!”

"She brought it on herself." She whipped her head around just to see Young Masbeth. “By helping you and your master!” He jumps and drops the mallet he held in his hands, grabbing Katrina’s hand racing out of the windmill. "You're just in time to have your head cut off!" They fled down the steps. "Tonight the Horseman comes! And he comes for you!"

**~////~**

Bailey Rhodes had not once thought in a million years he’d be in this position. Clinging for dear life on a windmill with a murderous dead man out for their blood. As they reached closer to the ground the fire was growing at a rapid pace. “Ichabod!” He called out. “I think now’s the PERFECT time to-.”

“Jump!”

Young Masbeth jumped and landed on his backside, Katrina jumped and landed on her knees. Bailey landed on his back and Ichabod…landed on Bailey. The two flushed, quickly scrambling to get off one another watching as the windmill burned to the ground, with the Horseman still inside.

"Is he dead?" Young Masbeth asked.

“That’s the problem. He was to begin with.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't feel the need to describe the whole scene with them on the wind mill ^^; I had at first but ultimately scrapped the original and shortened it just a bit but enough for you to get what's going on. 
> 
> Happy Holidays/Merry early Christmas! <3


	11. Head For A Head

Trees are but a blur as they race forth through the dense woods. Young Masbeth turned his head towards Ichabod, lightning illuminating his face. “Where are we going?!”

“Anywhere but here that’s where!” Bailey responded, looking behind to see the Horseman not far behind. A curse escaping his lips when he sees his sword raised high above him.

“Katrina: Take the reins.” Ichabod handed the horse’s reins to Katrina, taking Young Masbeth’s rifle in his hands. Ichabod climbed on top of the carriage so he way kneeling on the roof. But after another flash of lightning, he was puzzled seeing that the Horseman was no longer on his horse. Suddenly the Horseman's hand was on the roof of the carriage.

He began pulling himself up only to have Ichabod shoot him in the chest with his grip having loosened. Ichabod and Bailey look at one another in shock, with Ichabod standing up.

Katrina looks up when she sees a tree branch and calls out. “Ichabod!”

Ichabod didn't have time to turn and was knocked off the top of the carriage and onto the Horseman's horse. Yet the Horseman wasn’t on the ground. Ichabod sat up and turned around to see the Horseman gripping to the back of the carriage, being dragged across the ground. Once he was almost neck and neck with him, he leaps onto the Horseman.

Ichabod managed to pull himself up onto the top of the carriage again and looked got on his stomach to lean down and look inside the carriage. He hears a sword being unsheathed. He looked up and moved his head just in time as the Horseman's sword smashed into the spot where his head had been. He yelled in surprise, attempting to climb up to climb up the Horseman.

Bailey without thinking in all honesty, grabs Ichabod’s bag after motioning Young Masbeth to toss it his way. Getting in front of Ichabod he uses said bag to block the Horseman from striking down. After he helped Ichabod back up, they were shocked as the Horseman leaps onto Bailey putting his hands around his neck.

“Jump!” Ichabod shouted to Young Masbeth and Katrina. They jumped onto the two horses that moved the carriage.

Bailey’s coughing and spluttering, holding onto his neck after successfully getting him in the chest only to be yanked up by him once again. The horses then jump over a log, resulting in Ichabod and Bailey both falling. Ichabod’s back hit the driver seat holding Bailey in front.

“Are you alright?”

“I will be once we’re away from this bastard ghost trying to murder us all!”

“….No need to be snippy.” Ichabod’s eyes then widened, seeing the Horseman bring his sword down: He sliced down but the blade lodged its self in the seat right between Bailey’s legs. “Jump onto a horse!” He yells over the roaring thunder.

Bailey jumped after Ichabod pushes him, landing on a horse beside Young Masbeth. His legs still quivering after the little ‘incident’. Ichabod stomped his foot hard to break the axel that connected the horses to the carriage. He grabbed onto it after falling, allowing himself to be dragged.

The Horseman still had his sword raised as the carriage crashed and he flew off and the carriage landed directly on top of him.

It wasn’t long before they reached the Tree of The Dead. Ichabod released what he was holding onto and lay there for a moment as the horses stopped. With Bailey’s help he got back on his feet, noting Lady Van Tassel on her horse with a pistol pointed directly at them.

“Bailey! Take Katrina and run!” He ordered.

The two wasted no time.

"Yes! Do run! And jump, and skip!" Mary said with glee laced in her voice. She lifted her pistol higher, aiming it right at her targets. Ichabod had made a move to stop her. Hearing him snap a twig, she quickly whirled around, a wild look in her eyes as she pulls the trigger. With a grunt of pain after the bullet hit his chest, Ichabod falls.

“NO!”

Bailey and Katrina froze mid-run as they hear Young Masbeth’s cry. Yet before he could even get to his fallen teacher, Lady Van Tassel whom had a surprisingly strong grip about her grabbed Bailey. Yanking his hair almost out of his roots calling out to the Horseman with sick joy.

“Here!” She calls. "Take them! They're yours!" The Horseman's pace quickened in the slightest as he neared them.

“Sir! You’re not dead.” Young Masbeth says with joy.

Ichabod sat up slowly, saw a velvet bag hanging off the saddle of Lady Van Tassel's horse. He lunged for her, this resulted in Katrina and Bailey being freed from her grip. Katrina stumbled towards Young Masbeth whereas Bailey landed on his knees.

With Lady Van Tassel and Ichabod scrambling for the Horseman’s skull, Bailey finds himself held by his hair once again by the Horseman. He gritted his teeth feeling cold steel against his now exposed neck.

“Horseman!” Ichabod calls.

Just as the Horseman was about to dig his sword into the skin of Bailey’s throat, both looked over to see what Ichabod was holding. Ichabod threw the skull at the Horseman. The Horseman caught it in his gloved hand. He drops Bailey with ease, the other sinking to the ground shaken like a leaf feeling Ichabod’s arm around him a moment later.

Bailey grins faintly up at him, closing his eyes as Ichabod tenderly runs his fingers through his hair holding him close.

They heard a more growling type sound come from the Horseman. Young Masbeth and Katrina soon re-join Ichabod and Bailey. Young Masbeth stood close to Bailey’s side.

His head had been given to him.

The Horseman looked exactly as Bailey remembers old Baltus describing and how he envisioned him: Deathly pale skin. Shocking blue eyes. Teeth filed down to razor sharp points…his hair dark as night and unkempt. He slowly focuses his attention on the quartet. Lightning flashed again as he makes his way closer.

Bailey stands protectively in front of them, the fear still present but not as great.

The Hessian’s horse whinnied as it galloped towards its owner. He strokes Daredevil’s muzzle with a gloved hand, feeling the horse lightly nuzzle his face before climbing on his back. "YAHHH!" The Horseman shouted and urged the horse forward.

The small group moved out of the way not wanting to get trampled. Watching as the Hessian makes his way towards Lady Van Tassel. He reached down and yanked her onto the horse so she was leaning back into his chest.

“YAHHH!” He shouted again.

 _Not a wide range of vocabulary I see…_ Bailey can’t help but think yet doesn’t dare say it out loud.

When the Lady finally comes to, there’s a terrible ache in her head looking around in bewilderment. Her eyes grow wide with utmost shock at the sight of the Hessian smiling down at her. A silent scream escaped her opened mouth. She barely had time to react when the Hessian lowers her head and kisses her.

Ichabod and Bailey blanched. Ichabod burying his face in Bailey’s hair and Bailey burying his face into his chest. Blood dripped from Lady Van Tassel’s mouth from his razor sharp teeth, piercing into her now bloodied lips. When he pulls back, he grins. A horrid, bloody grin.

“YAHHH!” Kicking Daredevil’s sides, he launched into the air past Ichabod, Bailey, Katrina and Young Masbeth jumping into the tree unleashing a spray of blood.

The devil finally had his queen.

Lady Van Tassel’s hand stuck out of the tangled roots, the finger curling ever so slightly as if she were beckoning them to come closer. Ichabod had his hands folded in front of him, his eyes then roll up to his head and he promptly fainted.

This time Bailey joined him not long after.

“…How odd. I thought Bailey was the tougher of the two.” Masbeth muttered.

Katrina laughed softly at his response, motioning him to help pick them up. “Come on. Let’s take them back to the manor. Help me get them up.”

It was over. The nightmare had finally ended…well for some.

**~////~**

Ichabod way laying on top of the quilt in his room back at the Van Tassel Manor. His coat was hanging on the corner of the headboard and his boots were left on. His eyes slowly opened to find that he was staring at the ceiling.

“Glad to see you’re awake.”

He turned his head and was relieved to see Bailey grinning at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly? Never better. I’ve yet to have another bad memory…my back hurts a little but I’ll live. And yourself?”

Bailey shrugged one shoulder. “I’m alright.” He assured the concerned Ichabod. Ichabod noticed he was still wearing the same outfit from the forest. A pale-grey colored vest with black sleeves and a pair of black trousers. There were a few tears on the vest and some where his knees were.

“Did the Horseman hurt you?”

“Huh?” Bailey realized he was talking about his neck and shook his head. “Oh! Nonsense. I just got a little scratch is all. No big deal. If you hadn’t had given him his skull back, I’d be on my way to a graveyard by now.”

“Well at least it isn’t deep.” Ichabod said, lightly trailing his finger across it. Bailey tries not to flush at his actions.

 _Now. You must do it now…even if he thinks less of you at least try_ Ichabod gives himself a little pep talk as he puts a hand on Bailey’s shoulder. “? What is it Icha-?” Before he could react, he feels warm lips placed over his own. His eyes went wide as Ichabod kisses him. Frozen. Absolutely frozen.

The look of surprise was still on his face even after Ichabod pulls away. The other lowering his gaze to the floor as if he were ashamed of his actions. “I’m…I’m sorry. Sometimes, when I’m near you…”

“It’s alright,” Bailey finally finds his voice, chuckling softly cupping Ichabod’s face in his left hand with his infamous grin. “I…Quite liked it to be honest.”

“Even though I’m a man as well?”

“Does gender really matter that much?”

No.

Ichabod came to that conclusion as he kisses Bailey once more. He supposed it did not in the end.


	12. Nightmare's End

Bailey was, in all honesty more than surprised when Ichabod said that he didn’t feel the need to return to New York early the next morning. Yet, all the same he felt more than delight upon hearing Ichabod say such words. I’m sure you can already guess Katrina and Young Masbeth’s reactions to the news.

A month has already gone by since their decision to stay. Living in a little cabin just a few feet away from the entrance to the Western Woods.

Ichabod became the town’s constable after it was put under vote and Bailey, of course remained his assistant like back in New York. After some pressuring from Ichabod-Bailey eventually wrote to his mother Tara telling her of what has been going on…well not going into too much detail of course. Just as he predicted, she was still seething with him and yet, all the same she seemed to genuinely try to be happy for her son and future son in law.

Their cabin was built by hand as most were in the hollow. It was easy to find wood considering they were near the forest and trees were practically all around. Katrina would stop by a lot, to teach Bailey the proper ways of cooking (He once almost set their home on fire after burning a turkey during Thanksgiving).

Every morning they awake in peace to the sound of birds and warm rays of sun (which seemed less gloomy as of late considering the Witch and Horseman had gone). Nestled together in their warm, comfortable and most importantly safe home.

Ichabod gradually became more opened around Bailey: Telling him a little more of his childhood and mentioning more of what his mother had been like. Bailey, in return did the same. Telling Ichabod much of his father and what a good-natured, lover of life he was with a contagious laugh and smile.

**~////~**

Ichabod and Bailey couldn’t help yet to slip out of the town meeting some weeks later. Even Young Masbeth acted as if he had other important matters to attend and Katrina’s excuse was she had to prepare for the Thanksgiving dinner coming up.

“I swear if I were to sit through it for another hour I probably would have gone insane.” Bailey complained once they were out of the church.

Ichabod merely grinned down at him. A look of amusement on his face. “You PROBABLY would have?”

“Oi. Watch it Crane.”

Some moments later they found themselves in the Western Woods. Hands intertwined together. Yet, they did not feel that horrible feeling the last time they had been here. “…Do you hear that?” Bailey whispers suddenly.

A panic expression crossed Ichabod’s face as he looks around wearily, shaking his head. “I don’t hear anything. Just the birds.”

Then that’s when realization came upon him.

The last time they were here, there was nothing. No birds. No squirrels or other forest animals. Not even an owl hooting in the distance. But this time there were many sounds around them.

Ichabod returns Bailey’s grin, leaning down to capture his lips in a chaste kiss earning a laugh from the other once they pull away, enjoying the beautiful scenery around them.

The nightmare truly had ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there was probably know chance of Ichabod staying in Sleepy Hollow after all that's happened but I wanted to try something a little different rather than go along with the movie ending. He, Bailey, Katrina and Young Masbath have all formed a strong bond together that I didn't want to have them separate but remain in the hollow together starting a new life. 
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and if you're following this story, feel free to check out my other SH fanfic 'Spellbound' featuring our favorite Hessian ;) Enjoy!


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